


The Eternal City

by Angstosaur



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 51,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18427967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstosaur/pseuds/Angstosaur
Summary: Despite planning to take Ianto on holiday to Rome, Jack gets delayed in Cardiff dealing with a nest of weevils. When he eventually joins Ianto all is not as it seems. However, they decide to take the opportunity to explore the ancient city together, inadvertently altering timelines as they step back in time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

The sound of the air conditioning almost obscured the sound of the card key in the door, but not enough to keep Ianto from hearing it.

“Jack?” he mumbled sleepily, reaching out to put the bedside lamp on.

“No. Leave the lights out. I can see well enough.”

Ianto was happy to oblige as he was still half asleep and hated bright lights in the middle of the night. He could hear Jack getting undressed and then felt the mattress dip as he crawled under the covers and into the bed.

“Crisis averted then?” Ianto asked, snuggling up to Jack, pleased he’d been able to make it.

Jack just shrugged and took a deep breath before wrapping his arms around Ianto and hugging him for all he was worth.

“Hey – what’s up?” asked Ianto, immediately put on alert by Jack’s clingy behaviour. Jack only ever hugged him that tightly if someone had been seriously hurt, or even died, usually himself.

There was no reply from Jack, he just burrowed his head into the junction between Ianto’s shoulder and neck and snuffled slightly.

Ianto felt his shoulder becoming damp and that was enough to have him frightened. Jack only cried liked that when something truly awful had occurred.

“What the hell’s happened? Oh shit, please not Tosh. Gwen?”

“No, no – they’re both fine,” hushed Jack, sensing the anguish in Ianto’s voice.

Moving around in the bed, Jack placed his hands either side of Ianto’s face and leant in to kiss him, tentatively at first and then with greater desperation, as if it was to be the last kiss they’d ever share. As Ianto reached up to take hold of Jack’s arms, his hand came into contact with the wrist band that Jack seemed to wear at all times. But there was something wrong with it – it wasn’t the same. The strap was not the one he was familiar with. A sudden chill of realisation hit Ianto full force, making his head spin and his stomach plummet.

“When are you from, Jack?”

He got no answer, but Jack’s wandering hands, that were working their way down his shoulders and onto his chest, seemed intent on memorising every square inch of him.

“What’s going on?” demanded Ianto, rolling to one side so that he could put a light on, ignoring the muttered protest.

As soon as the light caught Jack’s eyes, Ianto could see it was a much older man that lay in bed with him. He’d always been able to detect, by looking into his lover’s eyes, the heavy burden of time and losses that weighed down on Jack’s soul. He could tell that the burden was much heavier than it had been when he had last seen Jack.

“I’m dead,” stated Ianto. It was the only explanation that made sense to him. “Where you’ve travelled from – I’m not alive anymore, am I?”

Jack sorrowfully shook his head.

“Why… why are you here?”

“To keep a promise.” Jack’s voice caught on a sob that was threatening to choke him. “Make that two promises.”

Ianto cast his mind back to the airport, when Jack had reluctantly taken the call from Gwen and insisted that Ianto go on ahead of him. He had said that he’d follow as soon as he’d dealt with the nest of weevils that had been found in an old storeroom, under the Prince of Wales pub.

Before Ianto knew what was happening, Jack had pressed the boarding pass into his hand and kissed him quickly, promising that he’d join him in Rome as soon as he possibly could.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack abruptly sat up and rubbed his face.

“This was a mistake – I should go.”

Taking a deep breath, he swung his legs out of the bed and focused on doing the right thing. He’d screwed up – he may as well have waltzed in, announced to Ianto that he was fast approaching the end of his life and that he was just dropping in to say goodbye.

“Hang on – not so bloody fast!” Ianto grabbed hold of Jack’s arm and held on tight, not prepared to let him get up and leave. “You can’t turn up like this and then just disappear-”

“I have to! I shouldn’t be here.” Jack didn’t turn around; he just shook his head. It wasn’t just Ianto he was trying to convince. “Timelines, Ianto –”

“Don’t give me any crap about crossing your own timeline – that’s never stopped you before. I happen to know that you visited London in the 1940’s on at least four separate occasions-”

“How the hell-?”

“Have you forgotten? I know everything.” Ianto paused when he saw Jack wince. “Surprised you never bumped into yourself.”

“That was different. Anyway, as I am apparently a fixed point in time, I’m –”

“What? Exempt from the usual rules of time and space? If that’s the case, why are you so twitchy now?”

“This is different! If I affect what you do … you could change how I react to … certain events and that could have …” Jack stumbled over the words, barely capable of finishing his own sentences. “It might change history.”

Ianto narrowed his eyes as he watched a range of emotions play out in Jack’s face as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clutching the sheets so fiercely that his knuckles were white. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing Jack out of control like this – even when he was at a loss he’d disguise his uncertainty with bluster. Slowly levering himself up into a sitting position, Ianto shuffled closer to Jack, not wanting to scare him away, but wanting to be close enough to stop him from running if his gamble played out badly.

“OK. How about- worst case scenario- I find out something that could have devastating effects on history, global or personal that is, well then, it’s simple. You retcon me.”

“Retcon?” Jack was startled from his melancholy by the suggestion.

“It’s fine, I packed some in my hand luggage, labelled as blood pressure meds,” explained Ianto, as if access to the drug was the main concern.

“Ianto Jones – do I want to know why you brought amnesia pills with you on vacation?”

“Well, it pays to be prepared. Remember that first date – you know, the proper one – movie and dinner? Ever since then I have always carried retcon. That, and a stun gun disguised as a fountain pen.”

“Just like that spy in the movies?”

“Bond – please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten 007?”

Jack let go of the crumpled sheet and wrapped an arm around Ianto’s shoulders and pulled him close for a massive hug. He could not believe how stupid he had been not to have valued Ianto more than he had.

“Indulge me for a moment and answer one simple question.”

Ianto felt Jack shudder and realised, belatedly that he thought he was about to ask how he was to meet his end. He slid an arm around Jack’s waist and squeezed him in reassurance.

“No, not that. I just want to know this was our last chance to get away from Torchwood together before, you know …?”

Jack sighed and eventually nodded his head. It was just one of many regrets he carried around with him, all accumulating to remind him of his mistakes.

“Right.” Ianto dragged the word out as he worked through the possibilities in his head.

He was astute enough to realise that the obvious conclusions to be drawn from that revelation were that either Jack left Torchwood sooner rather than later, or Ianto died before reaching thirty, or both. It wasn’t as if he was totally unaware of the all too likely probability of at least one of these events.

“I take it you never did make it out here then?”

Jack just shrugged. He did not dare risk opening his mouth and saying anything. It was bad enough that he had let Ianto down on this occasion, but then he had promised to take him away again the next time the Rift was quiet, and that time had never come. Ianto had never complained or shown any sign of the resentment he would have been entitled to and that just made it worse.

What the hell had he been thinking of when he decided to visit Ianto here and now?

“OK.” Ianto nodded as if Jack had replied out loud. “One more thing. I don’t suppose you can recall if I returned to Cardiff straight away or if… maybe … I stayed the whole week?”

The way Ianto strung out his question, as if testing the waters, gave Jack cause to smile. Casting his mind back he did remember firmly insisting that Ianto stay where he was and to have a well-earned rest. He also remembered collecting Ianto from the airport, glad he had forced him to have a vacation as he looked happier than he had ever seen him. Jack had even wondered if Ianto had maybe indulged in a holiday romance– his eyes were brighter, and he had flushed pink when Jack had innocently asked if he had enjoyed his time in Rome. However, when he had teased him over it, Ianto had solemnly sworn that Jack had been the last person to lay hands on him, and he had been particularly adamant about that. Now it was all slotting into place.

“Well?” Ianto prompted. “It’s hardly going to cause a major time disturbance if I find out if I spend just a single night or a full week in Rome is it?”

“No, it won’t.” Jack smiled properly. “I can tell you categorically that you return to Cardiff on the flight you originally booked.”

“Good, that’s settled that then. Come on, let’s get back in bed.” Ianto pulled the heavy bedcovers back and winked at Jack. “As I see it, I deserve a break and from the look in your eyes so do you. Stay with me?”

“You sure about this?”

Jack hesitated as he watched Ianto slide his long legs back under the smooth cotton sheet. He knew that Ianto didn’t just mean for the night. He understood that he was suggesting that they spend the whole week together. That was more than he could have hoped for and far more than he thought advisable.

“Very.”

Looking Jack in the eye, Ianto figured that although a week was not long, it would be enough time to create some good memories. If what he suspected was true, they would both need them.

As Jack crawled back under the covers and gathered Ianto to him, holding him close, it was evident that his priority was not sex and that only made Ianto even more certain that he’d made the right decision. This Jack needed him far more than the one back in Cardiff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto woke to discover Jack crouching on the floor next to the bed, the cover of his wrist strap undone as he held the device out in front of him, apparently aiming it at Ianto’s head.

“What’re you doin’?” Ianto mumbled, confused by the look of concentration on Jack’s face. He wondered if he was scanning him for something.

“Recording you sleeping. You have no idea how cute you look cute like this.”

Jack had no intention of admitting that he had spent almost half an hour capturing images he wanted to hang onto and cherish when he had to leave. He had nothing from before.

“Piss off … ’m not cute.” Ianto pulled the eiderdown quilt over his head and attempted to burrow under the covers.

“Oh yeah? Wait until you see this …” Jack grinned as he made sure he caught the action shot of Ianto wriggling out of sight.

“Put that thing away now, please?” Ianto pleaded from under a pillow.

Jack fastened the strap back, reluctantly and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’d better get used to it. I think I’m going to be taking lots of holiday snaps.”

“You can’t be doing that on the streets, you’ll just get odd looks. Well, odder than usual.” Ianto yawned as he emerged from the safety of the bed.

“Oh,” huffed Jack. “I guess I’ll have to use a cell phone or camera instead. Did you bring that camera with you? Didn’t you have a fancy one, with a really long lens?”

“Yeah,” replied Ianto with a smile, amused that Jack recalled that particular detail. “But you can’t use it. I can’t have ‘Cardiff Jack’ finding pictures of me naked in bed here in Rome.”

“Why not?” Jack leered. “I’m pretty sure I’d enjoy that.”

“Really? And you wouldn’t wonder who’d taken them?” Ianto raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re not as possessive as you used to be, then?”

“Oh – I see.” Jack winced as Ianto’s point hit home. “Damn – I guess I’ll have to make do with discreet indoor pictures then.”

“Haven’t you got any pictures of me?” Ianto’s voice trembled a little as he asked what he knew was a leading question.

“Not of you, no.”

“Oh, I see. I guess I never made it into the tin then.” Ianto pressed his lips together and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt.

“Hey there. It’s not like that – you did make it there. That picture that Gwen took of us together on the wall outside the hub, you were wearing that long coat of yours, very sexy. I was sharing a sandwich with you.” Jack looked wistful as if recalling a dim and distant memory. “I just don’t have pictures of anyone anymore. I lost the tin.”

“Shit.” Ianto knew what that tin of pictures meant to Jack and resolved there and then to make sure he got copies of every picture and store them in various formats so that Jack would be able to retrieve them. “Well – I suppose we could always buy you a camera.”

“You’re gonna take me shopping?”

“It’s Rome, Jack. It’s a legal requirement.” Ianto nudged Jack gently in the ribs. “You were going to buy me a suit…”

“I still can.” Jack ran his fingertips through the curls that were starting to form in Ianto’s hair. He didn’t remember it getting so long.

“Oh yeah, and how do I persuade you back in Cardiff that I didn’t sell my body so I could afford it! My salary doesn’t exactly allow for designer Italian suits.”

“Ah … you always refused to take a pay rise. It’s not as if I never offered.” Jack frowned. “Why was that?”

“To start with, I didn’t want the others thinking you were paying me for sex.” Ianto admitted quietly, embarrassed by how pathetic it sounded out loud. “Owen suggested as much once.”

“What?” Jack was genuinely shocked.

“Now it just makes life easier if I get paid substantially less than the others. It means that no one can accuse you of favouritism.”

“So, when you said you were happy living where you were?”

“Oh, no - I love my house.”

“So, back to the suit. I do seem to recall you returning from your holiday with a gorgeous suit and that you’d charged it to my personal account.”

“Really? Are you just making that up? Hang on, if I go along with your suggestion it will happen anyway, so it will be the truth. Fuck. Rule one - no playing with my head before I’ve had my morning coffee.”

Ianto groaned as he rolled onto his back. He felt the springs of the mattress complain as Jack bounced up and onto his feet.

“OK then, so how’s this gonna work?” asked Jack, frowning. “We spend a week together in Rome and then I retcon you?”

“No!”

“Ianto, I know for a fact that you never mentioned any of this to me.”

“Doesn’t mean you wiped my memory – just means I kept it secret.” Ianto gave Jack a defiant look. They both knew that he was more than capable of keeping a secret.

“Oh…” Jack wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that Ianto had probably kept this from him.

“What? I don’t believe it! Are you sulking about something I haven’t even done yet?”

“It’s complicated ...” Jack sat down again heavily. Leaning forward, he held his head in his hands.

“Not really.” Ianto reached out and ran his hand down Jack’s back, feeling the tense muscles beneath the smooth skin. “We’ve got the chance here to spend a week together. Away from Torchwood. Unless the city is about to be invaded by aliens, I’d really like to remember this. What do you say?”

Before waiting for an answer, Ianto yawned, arching up from the mattress, pushing the bed sheets over the edge and revealing more than enough reasons for Jack to stay exactly where he was.

Leaning down to capture Ianto’s lips in a slow, indulgent kiss, Jack wasn’t sure that he could spend the whole week with him and then just leave. He wasn’t sure how he’d resist wanting to whisk him away to safety and that really would screw up his own timeline. Not to mention the timelines of countless others.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack was sprawled half way across Ianto’s chest, his head positioned so that he could hear Ianto’s heart beating. They’d lain like that since he’d collapsed on top of Ianto after some particularly energetic love making. This was partly because Jack wasn’t prepared to let go of Ianto, clasping him close so that he wouldn’t see the tears that leaked from his eyes. Ianto had known that Jack was crying, had felt the wetness on his skin, but pretended, as he always did, that he didn’t, he’d rather have Jack grieving in his arms than alone.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me more questions,” mused Jack.

“It’s not that I haven’t got any…” Ianto sighed. “Of course I’d love to know ‘why me?’, ‘why now?’ and ‘what the fuck happened?’ But…”

“But?” Jack stroked Ianto’s arm gently, trying to encourage him to open up.

“I don’t think I’m brave enough to hear the answers.”

Ianto found himself able to be more candid with the Jack from the future who was refreshingly open with him. Whether it was because he’d be gone by the end of the week, or because he wasn’t concealing any of his feelings for Ianto, was difficult to determine. However, Ianto’s instincts were not to hold back on this man, he could tell that he’d been through hell and that, for some unfathomable reason, he had chosen to come back in time to be with him.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, you’re a lot braver than you think.” Jack was glad that Ianto couldn’t see the pained expression on his face. He’d lost track of how often he’d wished that Ianto hadn’t been quite so foolishly brave and loyal.

“Meanwhile, why not just pretend we’re two normal blokes having a holiday? Any chance we could try that?” Ianto pressed a kiss to the top of Jack’s head, hoping he’d still understand that they were drifting into territory that made Ianto uncomfortable.

“Hey, you know me, I’m ready for any challenge you wanna throw my way.” Jack grinned back, picking up on the hint to change the subject. He knew they’d return to it before the week was out. “Normal? I can do normal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto rolled his eyes as Jack joined him on the balcony of the hotel restaurant. It was on the top floor and had panoramic views across the city, and Ianto had been quietly watching as the pale golden glow of the early morning sun breathed warmth into the white domes that graced the skyline. As a counterpoint to the elegance of the city, Jack was grinning like a child as he set out the plates of food he’d collected from the breakfast buffet – he’d not held back. Ianto noted that he’d piled one plate up with scrambled eggs, the round Italian breakfast sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes, and on another he’d managed to balance pastries, pieces of fresh fruit and slices of cold meats.

“Hungry?” asked Ianto.

“Couldn’t decide what to have – so went for some of everything.” Jack looked askance at the considerably smaller breakfast that Ianto had got for himself. “What about you? You not feeling well?”

Ianto had a solitary pastry and a modest selection of fruits on a plate, but was more interested in nursing a large cup of cappuccino. He’d learnt to appreciate the Italians’ habit of drinking the milkier coffees in the morning and the smoothness of the warm drink had been soothing as he’d looked out over the city and contemplated what he was doing.

“Got to keep an eye on my waistline.” Ianto eventually answered with a small smile.

“What?” exclaimed Jack, almost choking on a mouthful of food. He took several gulps of orange juice before trying to say anything. “For a start I think you’ll find that’s my job and secondly – there’s nothing wrong with your waistline, or anything either side of it for that matter.”

“That’s not what you said back in Cardiff.” Ianto muttered into the dense froth as he took another sip from his coffee.

“What did I say?” Jack put his fork to one side and demanded an answer. “Come on –tell me.”

“You said that I was getting ‘cuddly’.”

Ianto thought back to last week when Jack had sneaked up behind him and then complained that it wasn’t so easy for him to slide his hand into Ianto’s pants any more. When Ianto had snatched the offending hand out from under his belt and shoved its owner out of his personal space, Jack had tried, and failed miserably, to smooth things over by giving him a hug and saying that he liked ‘cuddly men’. Needless to say, all requests for coffee were totally ignored for the remainder of that day.

“I did?”

Looking confused, Jack watched Ianto carefully and spotted the way his eyes flicked to one side, evidently recalling the rest of whatever had been said and done to upset him. He was pleased that he could still detect the moment when Ianto put down the shutters indicating that there was a lot more that he was leaving unsaid. He could also see that whatever comment he’d thrown away in the past had really hurt Ianto.

“Yep. I suppose I don’t always have the healthiest of diets-”

“I’m sure I didn’t mean that you should stop eating. Come on, have some of this, it’s really good.” Jack held a forkful of scrambled egg out for Ianto to eat and was surprised at the reaction his gesture received.

Ianto laughed out loud and shook his head in despair. Then it dawned on him – Jack was relishing every morsel of food on his plate, as if he had never eaten a strawberry or a mushroom before, or more likely, for a very, very long time.

“Jack – when was the last time you ate breakfast? Cooked or continental that is – or should I just say, for the sake of argument, twenty-first century, European-style morning food. Hmm?”

“Oh – am I doing something wrong?” Jack grabbed the serviette and carefully wiped the smears of grease and fruit juice from his lips and chin.

“Not exactly – your table manners have always left something to be desired.” Ianto frowned. “It’s just that- OK, can you tell me what that red thing is on your plate?”

“This? Um … strawberry?”

“Yep – but you had to think about it. So, I take it that you’ve not eaten any of these things for quite a while then.”

“Busted. It’s been … a while, yeah.”

“But that doesn’t make sense.” Ianto looked puzzled.

“What doesn’t?”

“You remember daft things like a photo of you trying to make me eat a sandwich outside the Pierhead Building and a new suit, but struggle with the names of basic food items.”

“Ah … thing is Ianto, I’m gonna be around a helluva long time so I can’t afford to remember every single name of every food item on every planet or space station I visit. I just need to know if it’s safe to eat or not.” Jack shrugged as if that made perfect sense and it did, to him. Although food poisoning was never going to be a major problem, it was an inconvenience he could do without. “I’ve gotta be selective about what I commit to memory.”

“Oh …” Ianto blushed slightly, as the implication sunk in.

Jack smiled as he set down his fork and reached across the crisp, white tablecloth to take Ianto’s hand. He slowly rubbed his thumb across the knuckles and looked into the eyes of the man he’d promised to remember. A vow made to a dying lover was the most binding of all and Jack had never forgotten.

“Just how long has it been?” Ianto asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

‘ _A thousand years and counting,’_ Jack thought to himself but said nothing. However, the way his eyes began to well up betrayed him.

“No wonder you think watery scrambled eggs are great then.” Ianto smiled sadly as he turned Jack’s hand over in his own and squeezed it tightly.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as they opened the door to their room, they could hear the sound of Ianto’s mobile phone ringing. Ianto scrambled to hunt for it, cursing Jack for turning their room into a disaster zone, having thrown bath towels on the floor before rummaging through Ianto’s luggage looking for something he could wear to breakfast. He’d eventually settled for a white t-shirt and dark blue jeans, a look that Ianto said had suited him. They’d have to pick up some more suitable clothing for him, Ianto having made it quite clear that the outfit he’d discarded the night before wasn’t appropriate. Jack no longer had the coat that Ianto had loved so much and that had been the turning point for Ianto in realising that the man he’d slept with, and made love to that morning, was far removed from the man he’d left behind at the airport less than twenty-four hours ago. 

“Shit, shit, shit! Where’s my bloody phone – he’ll be going mental.” Ianto muttered as he dug through heaps of rejected jeans and shirts on the bed until he finally found the phone. It was still ringing, having stopped briefly to go to voicemail, it had recommenced ringing shortly after. It was Jack. Of course, it was Jack.

“Hi there, sorry, went to breakfast without my phone, just got back to our- I mean my room. So, what happened then? She did what? I see… so I’d better arrange for a flight back… what? Stay here? Is that an order? Yes, the room is lovely, there’s a great view … breakfast? Oh, yes, it was … good, yeah… so, you sure about this? Cash? I’ll be alright, I’ve got my credit card. No, Jack, that’s not necessary – well OK, if you insist. Fine, I’ll call you when I can. Yeah, I lo- OK, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

Leaning against the doorway to the en suite bathroom, Jack had listened in quietly and tried to recall what he’d said in that conversation, but he drew a blank. He’d been annoyed at having to let Ianto down, but he couldn’t remember saying that and from the look on the other man’s face he certainly hadn’t given him the impression that he was upset at having missed out on the opportunity for a holiday with him. It occurred to him that, at the time, he had genuinely believed that he would make it up to Ianto, that they would have another chance. How stupid had he been – he should have known better. 

Oblivious to Jack’s thought processes, Ianto sat on the bed holding the phone in his hand, looking dejected.

“You OK?” Jack asked, attempting to make up for not having asked him the first time around.

“Yeah. In case you forgot, Gwen bashed her head on an overhead pipe chasing weevils in the sewers. Mild concussion. Owen says she needs to be off work for a few days, which means you’ve got to stay in Cardiff. You told me not to dare return before the end of the week – you said I should make the most of the chance to have a break. Apparently you’re having your personal credit card couriered out here for me to use.” 

Ianto summarised the content of the phone call, just in case Jack had forgotten the details, before adding bitterly- “Looks like I’ll be able to buy that suit after all.” 

Jack took one look at the way Ianto pressed his lips tight together as if willing his face not to betray his true feelings and could see just how badly he had screwed up in the past. His inept attempts to treat Ianto had ended up making him feel as if he had been bought off, given spending money and told to have a good time. From this perspective he could see that all Ianto had really wanted was some time away with Jack, not much to expect from one’s lover, not unless you both worked for Torchwood that was.

“I resented Gwen for that, you know.” 

Jack sat down on the bed next to Ianto and held his clasped hands out in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees. What he had actually resented Gwen for was her ability to thoroughly enjoy her relationship with Rhys, no matter how much she took him for granted. They could have trips to Paris, nights out, weekends away, babies and new homes. What he had managed to share with Ianto had been rushed and unfair; he had taken far more than he had ever given.

“Wasn’t deliberate.” Ianto shrugged. “Not her fault.” 

“I know – but I’d been looking forward to this. I’d made all these plans.”

“You? Plans?” Ianto teased.

“Yes – I still remember them.” Jack glanced to the left and caught sight of the Lonely Planet guide to Rome on the small coffee table.

“Go on then - tell me about them.”

“Some of them weren’t exactly legal-” 

“I refuse point blank to do anything that gets me thrown into a foreign prison cell for indecent exposure.” 

“Not like that - although you’re giving me ideas,” smirked Jack. “I just thought it might be fun to break into all those museums and galleries you’d want to visit after they closed. That way we could have them to ourselves, without any tourists in the way.”

“What? Using your wrist strap thing?” Ianto pondered the idea and could see the merits.

“Yeah – what d’you say?”

“That sounds absolutely brilliant – as long as we don’t get found by security guards and locked up, because I really don’t think I’d be able to explain that to you in Cardiff.”

“No worries – the upgrade has a proximity detector.” Jack tapped his wrist. “How about it then?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

“What else would you like to do?” Jack asked, pleased that he’d managed to cheer Ianto up, even if he’d had to make something up in order to do so.

“Oh – the usual tourist stuff, throw coins in Trevi Fountain, explore the Coliseum, eat ice cream and pizza …” Ianto trailed off in his litany of what-to-do-in-Rome and turned to look Jack in the eyes before continuing, quieter and with gentle solemnity. “I want to be able to dine out with you without having to skip dessert to deal with a rogue weevil. I want to share a bottle of wine with you without worrying about being over the limit if we have to set off in the SUV in the middle of the night. I want to sit and pass the time of day with you without being interrupted by a bloody Rift alarm… I guess that what I really want is to be able to have you to myself, even if it is just for a few days.”

“Your wish is my command. No rift alerts, no weevils, nobody else but us – I promise.” 

Jack pulled Ianto close and sealed his promise with a kiss. His own wish would have been to go back to Cardiff and give himself a kick up the backside, but he’d settle for giving Ianto a week to remember.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack decided that he liked wearing Ianto’s clothes, after all the t-shirt and jeans look was one he’d adopted in the past, all he needed to add was a black leather jacket. However, Ianto had stated that he had to get some clothes of his own to wear. The lid to the case was firmly zipped up once Ianto had folded everything neatly and put it back in place. Despite Jack’s suggestion that they hang the clothes up in the wardrobe, Ianto had refused – saying he wanted to be ready to leave just in case the Jack back in Cardiff changed his mind and wanted him on the next flight home. It hurt Jack that Ianto wasn’t entirely convinced that he had permission to take a week away from Torchwood; he tried to recall if he had really been that capricious in the past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto had taken a small back pack out of his case and proposed that they buy some foods for a picnic later. Jack had been impressed at his ability to converse in Italian at the small grocery shop as he selected items from the delicatessen counter and the bakery section. He had forgotten that Ianto was fluent in several languages, but he could have predicted the effect it had on him hearing Italian spoken with a hint of a Welsh accent. From the look on the young girl’s face as she wished them a good day, he was not the only one captivated by those Welsh vowels, not to mention the body that went with them. Yet again, Jack realised that he was going to have trouble letting him go.

After shopping for food, they stopped for espresso in a coffee shop on the Piazza di Spagna, opposite the Spanish Steps which were decked with overflowing containers of pink azaleas and throngs of tourists. But Jack wasn’t looking out at the display outside; he was quietly observing Ianto as he closed his eyes, lifted the small cup to his lips, breathed in the heady aroma of the strong coffee appreciatively and drank it reverentially. Surreptitiously, Jack flipped open his wrist strap and pressed a combination of buttons. That was a scene he would definitely want captured to view again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they reached the Pantheon it was crowded to overflowing, with barely room to move around. Jack suggested that they return later, much later, when it was quiet and Ianto agreed without hesitation. It was a place he knew they’d both appreciate more if they had it to themselves.

A quick reference to the tourist map confirmed that they could cut through the back streets onto the Via del Corsio and from there past the Roman Forum ruins to the Coliseum. They figured that someplace that big would dilute the tourist crowds somewhat and they were right.

Climbing up to the higher levels they stopped, slightly out of breath, looking down at the vast expanse of exposed passageways and cells that had once been hidden from view under the central arena. It was chilling to think of the thousands of lives that had been sacrificed there purely for entertainment. Despite the warmth of the sun, Ianto shivered as he leaned against an archway and looked away from the ruins.

Sensing Ianto’s disquiet, Jack set the backpack on the ground and gently wrapped his arms around him, drawing him close in a comforting hug. He’d known the other man was sensitive to the feelings of others, yet he’d not taken the time to truly assess how deeply Ianto was affected by them. It was as if all the terrors experienced here centuries ago were reaching out from the remains of the cold stone walls and calling to Ianto, making him painfully aware of the inhumanity of man.

“It used to be so much bigger and shinier you know, but the citizens of Rome took it apart block by block to use it to build churches and palaces.”

“Yep – it’s nearly two thousand years old now. Fancy that, older than you.” Ianto chuckled to himself and, for once, didn’t notice that Jack wasn’t joining in with the usual teasing concerning his age. “Come on, let’s go. I’m getting hungry.”

“You should have had a bigger breakfast – I told you so.”

Walking back down towards street level they paused to watch an old woman feeding a multitude of stray cats that crept out from behind the fallen stones to gather around the plates of cat food. The cats were dappled white, ginger, tortoiseshell and grey, a testament to the centuries’ worth of random couplings in the ruins. It was oddly comforting to see a small gesture of kindness in the midst of the ancient monument to cruelty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been Ianto’s idea to picnic on the Palatine Hill, he wanted to get as high up above the fumes of the traffic and the noise of the city as possible and they eventually found a secluded place in the shade of one of the elegant cypress trees.

Spreading out the newspaper he’d picked up at a newsstand, Ianto set out the food. He started by unwrapping the half kilo of bread he’d bought, a piece cut from a huge, freshly baked round loaf, it was crusty on the outside with an open, light texture inside. Next to that he set down a tub of mixed olives, alongside bags of grapes and tomatoes that he tore open. Lastly he opened the plastic bags containing wafer thin slices of prosciutto and a small buffalo mozzarella.

“Do you still carry a knife?” Ianto asked Jack tentatively.

“Yeah – back in my jacket, which you told me not to wear.” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Damn – well we’ll have to improvise then.” Ianto reached into his backpack and pulled out a chunky Swiss penknife. “I’m sure there’s a blade here we can use to slice soft cheese with.”

The food was perfect, tasting so much better for being eaten in the open air, the scent of bay laurel wafting over them in the gentle breeze. The soft, creamy mozzarella tasted sublime with the crusty bread, whilst the sweet tomatoes complimented the saltiness of the cured ham wonderfully. Jack had eaten so many exquisite meals in his life, yet at that moment, none compared to the simple meal he was sharing with this extraordinary man. How the hell had he managed to screw this up?

“So – gladiators then. I bet you’ve had sex with one, haven’t you?” Ianto cheekily challenged Jack. He’d noticed that Jack was looking wistful and wanted to do something to distract him from his melancholy.

“Well, now you mention it, I might’ve done.” Jack grinned, recognising the gifted distraction for what it was and launched into a series of outrageous anecdotes concerning his encounters with gladiators, centurions and vestal virgins.

“Sounds sinful.”

“Oh yeah, nothing hotter than a gladiator in those days, those guys were literally dripping with testosterone.”

“I’d have thought they would have stunk – I mean all that sweating in tight leather?” Ianto shuddered at the thought.

“They had baths, Ianto – communal baths. What’s more, the Romans really knew how to throw a party – no hang ups about sexuality either, they didn’t even have a word for homosexual, being bisexual was an accepted status at one time. Damn, they could have taught your century a thing or two about labels.” Jack held out his wrist strap and leered at Ianto. “Could I interest you in travelling back a couple a thousand years for an orgy?”

“You’re kidding me right?” Ianto rolled his eyes. “No. It’s one thing cheating on you, with you, it’s another thing entirely having sex with a bunch of ancient Romans.”

Jack rolled onto his back on the grass and growled obscenely. He’d have to make do with the fantasy.

“Hey – I could pop back and grab a few outfits and we could play dress up later. I’ll be a gladiator and you can wear a toga and be my patron who I have to serve in any way you see fit.”

Ianto’s response was curtailed by the ringing of his phone – quickly shushing Jack he accepted the incoming call, trying hard not to laugh.

“Jack?” Ianto cleared his throat, trying to put to one side the images that the other Jack had just conjured up in his mind. “No, it’s not inconvenient, I’ve just stopped for lunch … where? Palatine Hill, looking out over the ruins … yes it’s warm and dry, nothing like Wales … Me? I’m fine, really … No, it’s OK – you were right, I needed a break and knowing our job I might never get another chance – I’m not being morbid, I’m being pragmatic … well, I am Welsh, what do you expect? … Yeah … you do? I miss you too … what am I wearing? Jeans …yes, those ones. I’ll see what I can do. OK – I’ll see you on Saturday …bye.”

Ianto disconnected the call and this time there was a smile on his face as he cradled the phone in his hand.

Jack leaned back on his elbows feeling unaccountably dizzy, something felt amiss and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Shaking his head, he looked up to see Ianto dangle a bunch of grapes above his face.

“I’m not peeling them, before you ask.”

“You seem in a good mood. I take it I was less of an asshole on the phone this time?”

“You could say that – you said you were missing me.” Ianto looked almost coy saying it out loud, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Neither could Jack, he frowned, that didn’t ring true – or did it? Any further thoughts were dismissed as Ianto hand fed him a grape and muttered something about improvising by using bed sheets for togas.


	6. Chapter 6

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Jack – I’d’ve thought that one week settling for wanking and phone sex wouldn’t kill you.”

“Shut it, Owen. It’s not that – he sounded kinda …happy.” Jack shrugged and rubbed his face. He’d not expected Ianto to sound cheerful and the way he’d answered the phone, his voice had that throaty quality it only usually had when he was turned on. Surely the view wasn’t that good?

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No – of course not.” Jack protested. “It’s just that I thought he’d be, you know, miserable.”

“He’s on holiday, you jerk. When was the last time he got out of Wales, never mind had a proper break?”

“I can’t remember – um… not since he’s been here?”

“Exactly. What’s more, he’s not having to run around after us lot, catering to our demands and your every whim.”

“I’m not that bad – am I?”

“You take him for granted.” Owen shuffled back in his chair and decided it wouldn’t hurt to wind his boss up a bit. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up having a few pleasant holiday shags-”

“Not Ianto!” Jack exclaimed, appalled at the thought.

“Why not? You have seen the looks he gets haven’t you? The only reason he doesn’t score every time we go down the pub is that you’ve got him on a leash.”

“It’s not like that. Anyway, it’s not as if we’re a couple-”

“Bollocks. You’re more of a bloody couple than Gwen and Rhys for fuck’s sake – only difference is that while they work hard trying to convince each other and the rest of us they are one, you and teaboy go out of your way doing the opposite.”

“What?”

“How many times do I have to remind you – you’ve got all the time in the world to piss about pretending you don’t do commitment, but he doesn’t. You don’t have the luxury of being jealous that he’s enjoying himself away from you one minute and denying you’re in a proper relationship the next. Get over yourself, Jack, before he does.”

“Shit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Pushing open the door to their room, Ianto and Jack were too engrossed in kissing each other senseless whilst sliding hands under t shirts and down the fronts of tight jeans to notice that someone had been in the room in their absence. It was the strong scent of the flowers that Jack noticed first and as he broke away from Ianto, the younger man looked around and spotted the enormous bouquet of lilies and roses on the small glass topped table, next to a bottle of wine and a huge box of chocolates.

“Jack?”

“Not me – well, not now and I don’t remember-”

Before Jack could finish what he was going to say he was overwhelmed by another dizzy spell that had him clutching his head.

Ianto led him to the bed and got him to lie down. Despite Jack’s protests he made him stay put while he poured him a glass of water.

As Jack sipped the cold water he looked over Ianto’s shoulder as he opened the card that had been left with the gifts. The message was short, but no less poignant:

 

**_I wish I could be there with you. Jack._ **

 

“That’s a bit extravagant.” Ianto frowned. “It’s the sort of thing that boyfriends do when they’ve let their girlfriends down or shagged someone else. Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t-”

“No! I didn’t.” Jack lay back down on the bed, wracking his brain. He knew for certain that he’d not had sex with anyone other than Ianto after returning from the Valiant, but he was also sure that he’d never sent him flowers either. “But you’re right about one thing, it is the kind of gesture I make when I’m feeling guilty.”

“You look like you don’t remember sending them.” Ianto noted perceptively.

“I don’t.” Jack shrugged. At least he hadn’t earlier, he’d never made such an overblown romantic gesture to Ianto, something he’d later live to regret. However, the message on the card was eerily familiar, he could almost hear himself struggling to decide whether to sign it ‘love, Jack’, or ‘Jack x’ before settling on neither, hoping the flowers would speak on his behalf.

“I see, but for the record, don’t you dare treat me like a girl this week, got it?” Ianto pointed meaningfully at Jack.

“Never could,” replied Jack, biting his tongue as the words opened old wounds in his soul.

“How are you feeling now?” Ianto put the back of his hand to Jack’s brow and looked concerned. “Still dizzy?”

“I’ll be fine – come here and lie with me a while?” Jack patted the bed in invitation.

Ianto loosened the laces on his boots and kicked them off, before joining Jack on the bed, letting the older man enfold him in his arms. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Jack just wanted to cuddle up close, his hands not straying below his waist and was more than happy to indulge him. It felt good. Such was life at Torchwood that no opportunity for sex was ever wasted, so it was a pleasant respite not to feel under that sort of pressure, even if it was only for a few days. There was something very intimate about lying there in each other’s arms in the late afternoon, even though they were both still fully dressed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking to see that the sun had set and realising that they were both feeling hungry once more, the two men decided to freshen up and go out to eat. Jack had diplomatically suggested that he take a shower first, giving Ianto the chance to call Cardiff and speak to his younger self in privacy. By the time Jack came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, Ianto had finished his call and was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, a bemused look on his face.

“How was I?”

“You were … odd. I got the impression that you wanted to make sure I was alright here on my own and that I wasn’t lonely.”

“Oh – I know what that means,” Jack cringed.

“What?”

“It means that I’m jealous – the flowers? That’s me marking my territory.”

Jack felt uneasy that he’d caused Ianto to act sufficiently out of character to make his past self suspicious. Apart from anything else it suggested that he was so unaccustomed to Ianto being carefree and relaxed that it was enough to trigger alarm bells.


	7. Chapter 7

They settled for supper at a small trattoria almost hidden away in a small street, barely noticeable if it were not for the faded awning. Sitting outside at a tiny table, they shared a bottle of crisp, white Frascati wine with their meal. Ianto had decided to have linguine with salmon in a light sauce, while Jack had picked a richer dish from the menu, one with a tomato sauce, despite the horrified look on Ianto’s face.

“If you spill sauce on that shirt, you’re buying me another,” muttered Ianto as he skilfully twisted the linguine around his fork.

“You’ve got my card now. You could buy yourself whatever you wanted.”

“So you said – then and now.” Ianto rolled his eyes, wishing he had a notepad to make a record of which Jack had said what to him. “But that’s not an excuse for you to deliberately torture me by spattering red splotches of sauce onto a brand-new shirt.”

“It’s nice. I like this one.”

The loose-fitting, long-sleeved, white linen shirt looked good on Jack. He’d left enough buttons undone to show off his smooth, well muscled chest and Ianto had to grudgingly admit that it looked exceptionally good against Jack’s tanned skin.

“So do I, it looks great on you – makes a nice change from those blue shirts I always see you wearing. Never see you out of them.”

“Really?” Jack winked lewdly.

“OK – except when you’re naked, I never see you wearing anything else except blue shirts over a white t-shirt.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not really – we all wear uniforms for work I guess and we’re always at work.”

“Not now you’re not.” Jack topped up their wine glasses and raised his glass to Ianto.

“It’s strange in a way – not being on duty twenty-four hours a day. I keep thinking that my phone’s going to go off any minute beckoning me to go chasing weevils in the sewers.”

“Turn it off then.”

“I can’t-” Ianto took the phone from his pocket and it on the table between them and glared at it.

“Yes, you can. That way you can stop worrying and start enjoying yourself.” Jack reached out a hand and took the offending mobile phone and turned it off. Then he looked up and smiled at Ianto. “Now how do you fancy sharing some dessert with me?”

“Tiramisu?”

“Remind me – do I like that?”

“It’s made with strong coffee, chocolate and liqueur – need I say more?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After they’d finished their meal, they took a slow walk through the bustling streets until they eventually ended up at the Pantheon. Standing outside the heavy, bronze doors, hand in hand, they looked at one another and then Jack grinned, an idea coming into his head.

“Do you trust me, Ianto?”

“For reasons that defy logic, yes, I trust you.”

“Good. Come on – we need to get around the back where no one can see us-”

Ianto held his hands up in protest.

“Jack! I said no to anything that would get me arrested-”

“You’ve got a filthy mind, Ianto and I love you for it, but that’s not what I had in mind. Come on.”

Jack tugged Ianto’s hand and pulled him down the narrow alleyway that led around the back of the ancient Roman monument.

“This will do – just hang on a moment.” Jack let go of Ianto’s hand so that he could flip open his wrist strap. Adjusting a setting here and then adding in the co-ordinates he smiled and then took Ianto’s hand once more and clapped it to the vortex manipulator.

“Hang on tight and don’t let go.”

Staggering to stay on his feet, Ianto shook his head and was surprised to find Jack holding his elbow steadying him. He swallowed hard to keep his dinner down and cursed Jack for pulling a stunt on him without any warning.

“What the hell was that?” Ianto’s voice echoed.

“We’re inside the Pantheon now.” Jack stated smugly, as he turned around to take in the marble interior of the huge open area.

It was cold inside and dark, apart from the flickering light from candles set at the side of the altar in the part that served as a consecrated church. There were also some scattered candles set on the various tombs that were set in the walls. The aroma of incense filled the dusty air along with the smell of wax from the smoky candles.

“That’s probably a fire hazard that – surprised it hasn’t set off the smoke detectors.”

Jack shook his head at the typically droll reaction from Ianto and wondered when it would dawn on him that he wasn’t when he thought he was.

Ianto gazed upwards to the oculus – the hole in the centre of the huge dome that was open to the elements and the only source of light for the interior during the day. It looked quite small, but he knew from reading the guide books that it was almost eight metres in diameter. Beyond the dome he could see the night sky – dark with pinpricks of light that were the stars. He frowned as he tried to figure out if he was really seeing the edge of the Orion constellation, not only would there normally be too much light pollution in the city, it was completely the wrong time of year to see Orion in the Northern Hemisphere.

“What the fuck have you done?” Ianto spun round and glared at Jack.

“Me?” Jack slipped his arms around Ianto’s waist as he gazed back up at the traitorous stars.

“When are we?” demanded Ianto, emphasising the word ‘when’.

“Late seventeenth century.”

“Really? Bloody hell.” Ianto’s voice held a note of awe which told Jack that he was already forgiven.

They walked around the circumference of the edifice, built originally as a temple to all the gods, until they reached Raphael’s tomb. Ianto paused to consider the tomb in all its glory, the glossy marble reflecting the orange glow of the stubby candles that had been placed on either side of the alcove.

“Tragic – he died at the age of thirty-seven. The books say that he collapsed after a night of excessive sex with his mistress.” Ianto paused as he called to mind the details he had read in his guidebook. “His doctor apparently didn’t know the actual cause of the fever and the cure he was given actually killed him.”

“What a way to go – not tried that yet.”

“That isn’t what kills me is it?” Ianto looked alarmed. “Please don’t tell me that I die because I’m too embarrassed to tell Owen what we get up to.”

“No.” Jack chuckled to himself, recalling Martha’s questions regarding his avant-garde sex life. He pulled Ianto close enough to kiss him chastely. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to suffer the same fate as poor Raphael.”

A single red rose had been placed on the marble tomb and it struck Ianto that there was a peaceful aura emanating from the sarcophagus. He plucked one of the candles from its holder to hold over the Latin epitaph so that he could read the lettering.

“Ille hic est Raffael, timuit quo sospite vinci, rerum magna parens et moriente mori.”

Ianto slowly made out the script, carefully moving the candle so that no drips of hot wax fell onto the inscription.

“Here lies that famous Raphael by whom Nature feared to be conquered while he lived, and when he was dying, feared herself to die.”

“Beautiful.” Jack could only manage one word. It had always hurt that there had been no words left in commemoration of Ianto’s life.

“Did you put my body in the morgue?” Ianto’s voice was so quiet that Jack barely heard him. “You did know that I’d reserved the drawer next to Lisa for myself, didn’t you?”

Jack shut his eyes and swallowed hard, the lump in his throat not shifting. _How could he tell Ianto what had really happened? How the hell could he admit to him that he had no idea where his body had ended up?_

Unable to answer Ianto, Jack squeezed his hand and led him quietly away from the alcove in which the artist’s tomb was sheltered. Walking across to the centre of the floor, Jack lay down and pulled Ianto down to lie next to him. Staring up into the oculus it was as if they were on the ceiling looking down, gravity tumbling on its head. Jack felt as if he was in danger of falling down into the firmament and the only thing holding him here was Ianto. The truth of that made his heart ache as it was, indeed, Ianto that kept him returning to Earth from the stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On their return to the hotel, Ianto sighed as he entered their room, the scent of roses and lilies assaulting his senses and reminding him of the risks they were taking.

“Get undressed and get into bed,” Ianto ordered Jack. He had made a decision and if he did not go through with it straightaway, he was afraid he would surrender to the voice of his conscience telling him it was a very bad idea.

“My, you’re in a bossy mood tonight.” Jack raised his eyebrows.

Since returning to the present time Ianto had been quiet, apart from the times when he opened his mouth as if to say something of great importance and then changed his mind with a frustrated sigh.

Ianto just smiled secretively and retreated to the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later, stripped down to his boxers and carrying a bottle of water. Sliding into the bed next to Jack he shoved a couple of pillows against the headboard and sat up. Taking the lid off the bottle of water he drank the entire contents in slow, measured gulps.

“Right then, Jack, it seems to me that you need to talk. I think that you’re bottling something up and it’s eating you up inside. You really need to get it out of your system, but you feel you can’t say anything to me because you know that whatever you say to me could change the course of history – am I right?”

Jack smiled sadly and just nodded.

“Thought so. I know that look.” Ianto tipped his head back against the pillows before continuing. “Well, you saw that bottle of water I just drank. It contained a small dose of retcon – enough to obliterate two to three hours worth of memories. It’s that formula with slow-acting sedative to allow a person to get home before they fall asleep at the wheel. Which gives you about two hours, I guess, to talk.”

Ianto paused and turned to look at Jack to see how he was reacting. He had gone very still and remained silent. Ianto reached out under the covers and squeezed the older man’s thigh suggestively.

“Just promise me that if you take advantage of my body, while I’m out of it, you won’t leave any marks. Deal?”

“What?” retorted Jack, looking thoroughly dumbfounded.

“No bites, scratches, bruises, ligature marks –”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Jack put a finger to Ianto’s lips. “You weren’t going to discuss this with me first then?”

“Nope – because you’d have talked me out of it.”

Ianto shuffled down under the bedcovers, getting himself comfortable and coaxing Jack to curl up next to him, his head on Ianto’s chest. Then, he began to gently stroke his lover’s back, trying to ease the tension in his muscles.

“Come on, Jack – talk to me.”


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re a damn idiot, Ianto Jones, and you should’ve discussed this with me first,” growled Jack, prodding Ianto in the chest with his finger. “You do know you’re going to feel like crap tomorrow, don’t you? Retcon, wine and time travel don’t mix well. You’re gonna have the hangover from hell.”

“What? Worse than Guinness, vodka and red wine?” Ianto winced, recalling a particularly bad session with Owen.

“Infinitely.” Jack scowled, not letting Ianto make light of what he’d just subjected his body to. 

“I’ll have to rely on you looking after me then, ok?” Ianto could feel the muscles in Jack’s shoulders bunching up and tried to massage out the knots. “For reference - I packed some of Owen’s patented hangover remedies in the first aid kit, outside compartment of my suitcase.” 

“Trust you to come prepared for anything.” Jack sighed. The only times that Ianto hadn’t been prepared for what Torchwood had thrown at him had been his fault. “I don’t suppose you’ve got that stopwatch handy as well do you?”

“Good try, but I don’t need that to know the clock’s ticking. Come on, Harkness, talk. You can tell me whatever you like. By the time I wake up I won’t remember a thing.”

“I don’t know where to start.” 

“Why not tell me why you’re here now. It’s obviously been a while for you since I … you know… died, so why now?”

Jack raised his left arm to draw attention to his vortex manipulator. 

“It took a while to get this fixed so I could use it as anything more than a basic teleport device and then once I got myself somewhere that could fix it, I couldn’t bear to come back to Earth. It took a long while before I could face coming back.” Jack’s voice took on a bitter tone. “It was all my fault, and I hated myself for it. I ended up selling my services as the ultimate mercenary for a while, not caring how often I died or how it happened.”

“Shit.” 

Ianto hadn’t meant to interrupt, but Jack’s scathing assessment of his past actions took him by surprise. During late night shifts, back at the Hub, Jack had told him tales from his less than illustrious past, almost as if going out of his way to tarnish any impression he may have made as a hero, at least in Ianto’s eyes. But this was different, the level of self loathing deeper, as if permeating every cell of his immortal body.

“But I’d made a promise. I promised you I’d never forget you, that I would remember you.” 

Jack had mixed feelings about his pledge to Ianto, there had been times when it had been like a curse hanging around his neck, but he’d never regretted it. 

“It kinda got to be a like a penance – I’d come back, in time, watch you from a distance and remind myself of what I’d lost.” 

Jack paused to take control of his breathing. It had hurt to see Ianto go about his daily routines, totally oblivious both to Jack’s presence and to his own fate. There had been so many times he had wanted to leave a message in the Hub, or in Ianto's home, anything that would have given all of them a better chance of surviving past their thirties. But his training as a Time Agent coupled with his time with the Doctor conspired to keep him from interfering. The vehemence of the Time Lord’s fury with Jack over his actions resonated throughout his being, warning him of dire retribution if he did anything to further disrupt the history of the planet. 

“Each time I came back, I’d watch you from the shadows, making sure you never saw me, which was much harder to do than I thought it would be.”

Jack traced circles with his fingertips in the soft hair on Ianto’s chest, wanting to commit the feeling to memory. He smiled as he felt Ianto shift position to lean over and press a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

“What made you decide to come out of the shadows this time?” Ianto’s question was hesitant. He was still coming to terms with the idea that Jack had been stalking him from the future.

“After seeing you check in at the hotel desk, on your own, I thought maybe I could risk getting a little closer this time.” 

It had been the weary look of resignation on Ianto’s face as he told the receptionist that he wasn’t sure when, or if, his companion would be arriving, that had been the deciding factor for Jack. Although he remembered never making it to Rome for their long-planned week away, it had never occurred to him just how disappointed Ianto would have been. 

“Quite a bit closer actually, from skulking around in the shadows to stripping off and getting into bed with me,” observed Ianto wryly.

Jack could tell, without looking, that Ianto was probably rolling his eyes and he couldn’t blame him. It had been a really stupid thing to have done and he suspected he’d have to pay the cost sooner or later.

“Yeah, well as soon as you knew I was in the room, I figured there was nothing to lose.” Jack shrugged, recalling how the sound of Ianto’s voice calling out his name, sleep-slurred and wistful, had struck his Achilles heel.

“I noticed.” Ianto lightly ran his hand up and down Jack’s spine. He wanted to keep Jack from sinking into total despondency before saying his piece and knew that he had to play this carefully.

“There was also something I wanted to let you know, something I needed to make sure you knew.” 

Jack rubbed his face with one hand, wondering if he dared tell Ianto what it was that he wanted to tell him. If he did, it would prove him to be the ultimate coward, telling someone he loved them in the sure knowledge they weren’t going to remember it.

“If it’s what I think it is, I already know. Admittedly you’ve got a strange way of showing it most of the time, but I know how much we all mean to you.”

Jack almost choked on a sob that struggled to break free from his chest. That was exactly what he’d suspected and why he’d wanted to make amends.

“I need to explain… the days leading up to when you died… I was behaving like more of an ass than usual.” Jack reached across Ianto’s body to take hold of his hand. “I was angry at the situation we were in and I was being a complete bastard, taking it out on whoever was closest to me.” 

Jack decided it was too dangerous to risk giving away any further details. His actions had ended up saving millions, yet had cost the lives of hundreds of others, including Ianto. Ever since then he’d tortured himself, trying to think of other strategies he could have deployed to deal with the threat that wouldn’t have resulted in such high mortality rates. But, despite coming up with different solutions, he always came to the conclusion that it was pointless, because he couldn’t undo what had been done. 

“You remember exactly how you were acting? Really?” 

Ianto broke the silence, he’d waited a while to see if Jack was going to say anything else, but he could sense from the tension in the body next to his, that no more details would be forthcoming. He couldn’t help but find it strange that Jack remembered how he’d been acting, especially as he was constantly taking his Jack, back in Cardiff, to task for inappropriate behaviour, which the older man always claimed no knowledge of.

“It’s carved in my soul, Ianto – I swore to myself that I would never forget a minute of that week, ever.” Jack accepted it as yet another way of paying penance for his actions, his sacrifice of the innocent.

“Why, Jack?” Ianto whispered, afraid of what the answers would hold. “What happened?”

Jack slowly shook his head and resolved not to tell Ianto everything. He’d forgive him, he always did, and Jack didn’t deserve forgiveness, not for what he’d done. Ianto didn’t need to know the details of the events that would lead him to a premature death. Apart from the fact that Jack didn’t want to cause this man any more heartache than necessary, there was always the danger that memories of traumatic events, even if not experienced firsthand, could break through the retcon, especially given the working environment at Torchwood. Jack wasn’t prepared to take either risk, but there was one thing that had weighed heavily on his soul for such a long time and that was something he did need to find the courage to say.

“I never told you I loved you.” Jack’s voice was strained as his throat constricted at the memory he evoked. 

“What?” Ianto frowned, not following the way Jack’s thoughts seemed to be bouncing around, but from the tone of his voice, Ianto could tell that this had been troubling Jack for a very, very long time. “Hey, that doesn’t matter – it’s not like it’s the sort of thing we ever say to each other-”

“You did! As you lay there, in my arms… dying… you told me you loved me and I…I never said it back.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Oh.” Ianto’s heart felt like lead in his chest as he pictured his last minutes and he shuddered involuntarily. He squeezed Jack’s hand tightly, trying to express something he couldn’t put words to. 

“Yeah.” Jack shut his eyes and concentrated on the warm, vibrant body he was holding onto and not the pale, lifeless figure that haunted his dreams.

“I’d have thought it was some sort of death bed etiquette to reciprocate …” Ianto suggested semi-facetiously. He wanted to ask Jack why he’d not said it back, but wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, even if he wasn’t going to remember this conversation. So he resorted to being flippant as a defence.

“Like I said - I was being an ass. I couldn’t face the fact that I was losing you. Denial I guess.” 

Jack dared to look up into Ianto’s eyes that were looking slightly red and beginning to water with unshed tears, much like his own.

“I despised myself for not giving you that comfort. All I was concerned about was that you were leaving me alone, that I would have to keep fighting without you at my side. I was such a selfish bastard. I never gave you the peace of mind you deserved. And it was my fault – I was to blame for you dying the way you did.”

Jack scrubbed away the tears from his eyes angrily, still bitter about the way Ianto had been struck down so fast that he’d been caught off guard, unable to do anything to either prevent his death or to comfort him.

“Oh Jack, what are you doing still beating yourself up over it after all this time?” Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack and crushed him to his chest. “It’s not as if an early death due to Torchwood is going to come as a shock to me. Besides, you’ve made it clear enough that what we have is strictly on a day-by-day basis, no long-term plans or commitments neither of us can fulfil. I know I’m on borrowed time. I know there’s not going to be any happy ever after for me.”

Ianto was all too aware that he’d dodged the bullet several times already, from the nightmare of Canary Wharf to Jack’s very own threat to execute him when he found out about Lisa, not to mention innumerable other close encounters with the Grim Reaper. If he was going to die young, at least now he knew he wasn’t going to be alone, Jack was going to there with him and that was alright. Ianto focused on storing away that fact, even if he forgot the words he wanted to hold onto that knowledge. He breathed in and out slowly, telling himself it would be alright. He just had to let Jack know he accepted that, then maybe Jack could move on and forgive himself for whatever role he’d had in the events yet to come. 

“One of my most stupid mistakes ever was thinking that if I avoided commitment it would hurt less when I lost a lover. Trust me, Ianto, despite what you may think now or in the future, you never were a blip in time to me.”

Leaning up to cup Ianto’s face in his hands, Jack kissed him, slowly and deeply, reinforcing his words, making sure that Ianto understood what he was saying. As he broke away he felt Ianto reach out to hold him still so he could see what was going on in Jack’s mind. The blue grey depths of Ianto’s eyes peered into Jack’s soul and sought out what other pain was lingering there.

“What else is bothering you, Jack? I know there were lovers before me and I imagine there’ve been plenty since. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen you grieve them, when Estelle was killed I saw you mourn for her, but you got over it, it’s how you have to be to cope. I know it sounds harsh, but it’s what you do, get over us and move on. This isn’t just about me is it?”

“There haven’t been many I could actually talk to, not like you, Ianto, you accepted me, faults and all.” Jack reached up to brush the hair from Ianto’s forehead, wanting to let him know that, although one of many, he’d meant more to him than most. “But you’re right – there’s more. I was leader of Torchwood in Cardiff for … such a short time, no time at all really… and the team I picked, the people who gave me their hearts and souls, they all died horribly because of me … all so young, too young … and every single death was my damn fault.”

“All of us?” whispered Ianto, shocked at the revelation. It was one thing to contemplate his own death, another to think of his friends also dying before their time.

Jack had always known that there was only one person he could possibly talk to about any of this, only one man who wouldn’t judge him, who’d listen and be there for him, no matter what he said. All through the bad times, when he’d had to make unpopular decisions, choices that the others hated him for, Ianto had been there at the end of the day, prepared to hold him and accept him for all his many faults. Since he’d lost Ianto he’d never let anyone else in that way, that’s why the burden he carried was gnawing away inside of him, eating away at his immortal soul. No wonder he hurt so much.

“Yeah, Suzie early on and then Tosh, Owen and … and you.” Jack paused to wipe his face with his hand, denying himself the luxury of tears, before continuing. “Everyone but Gwen that was – I have no idea how she survived, but she did – she even managed to raise a family.”

“But that’s brilliant that is.” Ianto grinned, despite the tears that were threatening to spill from his own eyes and clutched Jack’s hand to his chest.

“How can you say that? Knowing I get the rest of you killed, how can you be so happy for her?”

“Well, for one, I bet Rhys will make an awesome dad.” Ianto’s words were slightly slurred indicating that the retcon was beginning to take effect. Then his voice took on a wistful tone as he imagined the type of parents that Gwen and Rhys would make. “I wish my dad had been like Rhys.”

“So do I – dammit Ianto, you deserved so much better. I let you down, I should have looked after all of you better than I did.” Taking a deep breath, Jack readied himself to let Ianto in on one more cause of his deep self hatred. “The Doctor never let me forget that, you know. He never let me forget that when others give you their undying loyalty you owe it to them to protect them at all costs. He wouldn’t let me travel with him afterwards, refused to let me in the TARDIS … told me I was a monster. Eventually he did forgive me, even set me up with some young lad he thought I’d fancy, less said about that the better. But he never let me forget.”

“Bastard.” Ianto spat out the word with venom. 

He didn’t care if the Doctor was revered and had saved the planet umpteen times, he was still an arrogant arsehole. Whatever it had been that Jack had done, he was certain the Doctor had probably done as bad – he’d read the records at Torchwood One. 

“No, Ianto.” Jack shook his head sadly. “I deserved his anger.”

“I still think he’s a bastard and a bloody hypocrite,” grumbled Ianto as he gathered Jack up in his arms and comforted him. As he stroked his back, he let Jack hold onto him so tight, that he knew there’d be bruises on his arms in the morning and he didn’t care.

“You’ve been bottling this up for so long, bloody hell, no wonder you’re such a basket case.” Ianto kissed Jack softly on the lips. “Maybe you should’ve come out of the shadows sooner-”

“No, I shouldn’t, Ianto. I should’ve known better – I’ve screwed everything up now.”

“I don’t understand –”

“As soon as I interacted with you, I changed things. I affected you and the ripples are spreading out…”

Jack reluctantly pulled himself free from Ianto’s arms, sat up in the bed and put his head in his hands.

“You’re talking about time distortions, yes?” Ianto thought hard and tried to work through the fuzziness creeping into his head. “So, you’re thinking that if you change how I act now… and that affects what happens when I get back to Cardiff… then I might change the future even if I don’t remember this conversation.”

Jack nodded in response. Even suffering the after-effects of retcon on top of half a bottle of wine and a quick jaunt through time, Ianto Jones was still remarkably perceptive. 

“Shit.” Ianto let his head fall back onto the nest of pillows he’d built up earlier. “What’s the worst-case scenario then? Jack? What is it? It can’t be that bad surely?”

“Yes, dammit, it could. You have no idea.”

“Of course I’ve got no idea, because you won’t bloody well tell me!”

“The worst thing might actually be you not dying when you did.” Jack’s voice broke as he said what had been bothering him, ever since he’d had the first dizzy spell. “If I don’t act like such an arrogant, careless bastard, I might not lead you to your death… but then I might not react the way I did and millions may die anyway.”

“Shit – ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one’, to quote Star Trek.” Ianto bit his lower lip as he worked on the scant details that Jack had given him and came up with the conclusion that in order for Jack to save the day he had to die.

“Something like that.” Jack placed a hand on Ianto’s shoulder, just to make contact once more. He should have known that this man, of all people, would understand the ramifications of any choices he would have to make.

“And you think the timelines are damaged already?”

“Yeah. The time vortex inside me responds when time is changed – I feel it, kinda like turbulence.”

“Those dizzy spells you’ve been getting?” Ianto shut his eyes against the sensation of disorientation he was getting himself. He figured that if he couldn’t see the light fittings swaying from side to side it would help.

“Yeah, they’ve been getting worse. I think time’s shifting. I’ve changed things, very slightly, but enough to cause changes. What I’m feeling is like the furthest ripples.”

“What happens to you when the rest of the ripples catch up with you?”

“Not sure. The last time I went through a paradox and came out the other side it was as if time had been rewound back to the point at which time diverged, but I remembered everything.” 

Jack frowned. He’d never quite understood how that had worked, but it had been as if the time vortex inside him had been anchored to that of the TARDIS.

“So you would disappear then?”

“Maybe …” Jack shrugged. He really didn’t know, although he suspected that his status as a fixed point in time might actually defy the laws of physics. 

“Which would mean you wouldn’t be here... and then... then... nothing will change?” Ianto was struggling to string sentences together as he felt the sedative in the retcon finally take the upper hand. 

“I don’t know. Paradoxes – only ever met one man who understood them and he created plenty.”

Jack shuffled down the bed until he was lying next to Ianto once more and carefully turned him onto his side so that he was lying half way across Jack's body. He didn't want to let him lose consciousness while lying on his back.

“Right … so that whole treading on a butterfly thing is true then?” Ianto muttered into Jack's chest.

“Yeah.” Jack considered that this was the reason the Doctor had never trusted him with a working vortex manipulator, he’d known that Jack wasn’t strong enough to walk away and let nature take its course.

“But there’s no way of knowing how much effect it will have is there? We might have just trod on a bit of its wing or ... you know what I mean...”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, you’re right, it could be just a minor fluctuation, that will iron itself out –”

“Like a... crinkle... wrinkle in time?” Ianto looked up at Jack hopefully.

“Yeah. Either that or a tiny tear leading to a huge rip. I just don’t know.”

“But what have we done to make that happen?” Ianto frowned, letting his eyes close. 

“I have no idea.” Jack kissed Ianto gently as he felt him falling asleep in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one - more to follow soon.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack threw the phone across his office in frustration. He’d been calling Ianto’s number all night and got nowhere. The phone had been switched off, something he’d told him categorically never to do, under any circumstances. At one point in the early hours of the morning, he'd even contemplated calling the hospitals in Rome to see if Ianto had been in an accident or been mugged.

Before making a complete fool of himself, Jack had called the hotel and asked to be put through to Ianto’s room, only to find out that it was three o’clock in the morning and the concierge made it clear that unless it was urgent he was not going to disturb any of the guests. However, he did manage to ascertain that Ianto had returned to the hotel that evening. Seething with impotent fury, Jack left a message. Then he wondered why he was so angry, was it such a big deal if Ianto wanted to get laid while on holiday? In theory, it was not a problem, as long as he took precautions and did nothing that would jeopardise Torchwood.

Stewing in his own thoughts, he reflected on the impression that Ianto had given him on the phone earlier that evening when he had called to thank him for the flowers. However, he had said something about going out for dinner that evening. Yet again, he wondered what was going on and if Owen had been right all along.

It really should not bother him if Ianto took advantage of the chance to have some normality in his life. The man Jack used to be would just be thinking of where best to find a warm body, or even a cool one; not that he had ever had any trouble finding plenty of willing offers, human or alien. If he did not know better, he would think he was being jealous and possessive. Then it struck him like a sand-filled sock to the back of the skull, he did not want Ianto to go looking elsewhere, he wanted him to be satisfied with what he could offer.

Jack swore to himself that there were going to be changes. He was not going to be so blind to what was going on around him anymore, his cavalier attitude was all well and good, but he was shocked to realise that it actually bothered him to think that someone else could be providing Ianto with something he had not been prepared to give. He decided that it was time he stopped being so self-centred and stopped taking the people around him for granted, especially Ianto.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Jack was making resolutions, so was Ianto. Having woken up with a headache to end all headaches, he was resolving not to touch another drop of alcohol ever. He had suffered more than his fair share of hangovers in the past, but this one made him wish he had never woken up. It felt as if his skull had shrunk and was still contracting, crushing his brain to the extent that the smallest of movements, even the simplest of thoughts was enough to send a wave of sharp pain reverberating inside his head.

Slowly he opened his eyes, although he just knew that the walls would be tumbling over one another, swapping places with the ceiling, making him nauseous. Groaning out loud, he rolled over, hoping to bury his head in the pillows, only to find himself crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“Ianto?”

Not feeling up to anything more sophisticated than a grunt in acknowledgement, Ianto wondered if he could crawl to the bathroom where he could just curl up on the cold marble tiles until he felt better. Raising his head carefully, he reached out an arm experimentally, just to see if it was feasible, but before he could attempt to move he felt a large, warm hand come to rest gently on his back, steadying him and preventing him from going anywhere.

“Hey there, where do you think you’re going?”

“Bathroom.” Ianto mumbled as he felt his arms collapse under his weight and he fell back down onto the rug in a heap. It then occurred to him that he really did need to go to the bathroom. “Need a piss.”

“Hang on – let me help you.” Jack was out of the bed in an instant and by Ianto’s side.

Despite having spent the night keeping a wary eye on Ianto, Jack had been unprepared for him rolling off the bed quite so dramatically. Helping him to his feet, he carefully escorted him to the en-suite bathroom. Despite his misgivings, he waited outside, as requested, and listened as Ianto used the toilet and then flushed it. It was when Jack heard the sounds of dry heaving, followed by taps running and water splashing, that he decided it was time to go to Ianto’s assistance.

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked tentatively from the doorway, realising as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was a really stupid question.

Ianto looked ill, not only was he was trembling slightly, but his skin looked clammy and he was holding onto the edge of the wash basin as if it was the only thing holding him up.

“Like shit.” Ianto leaned forward, water dripping from his face. “Just how much did I drink?”

“You don’t remember?” asked Jack, eyebrows raised.

“Nope – not a thing.” Ianto turned to look at Jack and could tell there was something on his mind, but his usual talent for reading Jack Harkness like a book failed him. “I didn’t do anything embarrassing did I?”


	11. Chapter 11

Jack sighed with relief – until Ianto woke up, there would be no way of telling if the retcon had worked. The next stage was to avoid any triggers in the next twenty-four hours.

“No, not at all. In fact you were fine until we got back here and then you passed out after we’d got to bed.” 

Jack skipped out the intervening hour or so in which he’d shared his sorrows and remorse with this man who would do anything for him. Despite a burning desire to provide comfort in return for the favour Ianto had granted him the night before, Jack had to bide his time until he made sure there were no residua memories.

“Shit. I’m sorry … you’ve only got a few nights and I screw up one of them by getting drunk. I’m so sorry, Jack.” Ianto leant forward to bash his head against the mirror, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking. But his head never made contact with the solid surface.

Jack had dashed forward and grabbed hold of Ianto, pulling him away from the counter before he hurt himself. He sighed. Trust Ianto to feel remorseful about not being much company in bed, oblivious to the fact that he’d allowed Jack to unburden his soul. Ianto had already been so tired that the sedative had not taken long to knock him out. In fact, Jack had been concerned that he had slept so deeply and so dreamlessly that he had barely moved all night. Throughout the night, he had checked every few minutes to make sure Ianto was still breathing.

As Jack cautiously manoeuvred Ianto’s uncoordinated body down to the safety of the floor, he felt his own head spinning. Then it hit him that his recall of the previous evening was also far from clear, he could no longer remember everything he had told Ianto. Despite having not taken retcon, he was having similar symptoms of disorientation. Whatever it was that their actions had precipitated, it was definitely more than a simple wrinkle in time and the effects were beginning to catch up with him.

“You too, huh?” Ianto gave Jack a sympathetic look as he allowed himself to be propped up against the bathtub. 

“Nothing to worry about – I just want to make sure you’re OK.”

“There’s some of Owen’s special tablets… in my first aid kit-” Ianto gesticulated in the vague direction of the bedroom. 

“Outside compartment of your suitcase – yeah, I’m onto it. Don’t go anywhere.”

“How did you know …?” Ianto started to frown and stopped as the flexing of muscles in his forehead made his head hurt more than it already was. He shut his eyes and concentrated on not moving. 

“Lucky guess?” suggested Jack, even as he cursed himself for his slip. He did not waste any time finding the first aid kit and locating the bottle containing Owen’s patented hangover cure. 

“Here – I think you’re gonna need two of these.” Jack frowned as he picked up the glass by the wash basin, but focused on filling it with water, before passing it to Ianto with two small, pale green capsules. 

Ianto reached out for the pills with one hand and the water with the other, thankful that he had decided to stay sitting down on the marble tiled floor where it was nice and cool. The added bonus being that if he keeled over he was at much less risk of cracking his skull on the marble countertop.

“Thanks.” 

Ianto swallowed the pills one after the other and washed them down with the whole glass of water, taking care not to drink too fast, the last thing he needed to do was throw up. He only realised he was shivering when he knocked the glass against his teeth. 

“Bloody hell, Jack, I feel awful – just what did we get up to last night?” 

Jack had seen the way that Ianto’s hands were shaking and had grabbed one of the large fluffy bath towels from the heated towel rail and draped it around Ianto’s shoulders before sitting down next to him, pulling the fragile young man close so he could lean on his broad shoulder.

“What exactly do you remember?” Jack asked warily. He needed to know whether or not Ianto recalled dosing himself with retcon before revealing anything to him.

“We went out for dinner… shit, you didn’t get tomato sauce on my linen shirt did you?”

“No – trust me, it fared a hell of a lot better than you did. Anything else?”

Jack was taking care not to give Ianto any prompts that might lead to him recalling anything he should not.

“Then we shared tiramisu – did you really feed it me from your spoon?”

“Oh yeah – that was fun.” Jack smiled fondly. He had really enjoyed that dessert, especially tasting it in Ianto’s mouth afterwards when they’d kissed in a darkened doorway later on that evening. The flavours of intense coffee, creamy chocolate and the liqueur made the experience even more memorable. 

“Oh yeah.” Ianto let his eyes close and slumped forward so his head came to rest on Jack’s chest. He felt Jack’s arm come around him to keep him from falling any further. 

“Then what?” Jack pressed a kiss to Ianto’s head. “What can you remember next?” 

“The Pantheon and Raphael’s tomb – but it’s shut at night, so that can’t be right. I must have imagined that … no, no I remember, we went inside and it was dark … and it wasn’t now, it was two hundred years ago. Or did I dream that?” 

Ianto turned to look up at Jack quickly, too quickly and his head made him pay the price for sudden movements. The combination of vertigo and a throbbing headache made him shudder. 

“Shit, my head’s killing me.”

“Easy there … for what it’s worth you didn’t imagine that. I used my vortex manipulator to show you what the place was like in the Renaissance.”

“Fuck. Is that why I’m feeling so rough?”

“Probably. Well partly.” Jack said apologetically. He then handed Ianto the scrap of paper he’d found on the marble counter underneath the glass tumbler. “I guess you’d better read this – you left yourself a note.” 

“I did what?” Ianto frowned as he took the piece of paper, torn from the room service menu. He studied it carefully, wincing as he tried to focus without triggering a wave of nausea. “Antipasti? Oh, the other side … hang on… read it for me, please.”

Jack frowned at the exasperated request. It did not bode well if Ianto was still struggling to focus. However, he took the note and read it out loud, even though he already knew what it said.

“It says ‘Dear me, if I feel like shit, it’s because I took retcon. Don’t ask Jack why. It was necessary. DO NOT take any more. Sorry.’” 

Jack paused to give Ianto time to process the information. 

“For what it’s worth, I did tell you that retcon, time travel and alcohol don’t mix well.”

“Was that before or after it was too late?” Ianto scowled.

“Hey there - I didn’t know you were planning to take retcon! If I had, I’d’ve stopped you before it was too late.”

“Fuck – I’m really not feeling so good.” Ianto groaned as a wave of nausea swept over him. “Some more water? Please.”

“Sure.” 

Jack slipped back into the bedroom and grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the fridge. Tap water was fine for downing pills, but the mineral water would taste better. He loosened the lid and passed it to Ianto. 

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” 

Once he had downed the contents and set the empty bottle on the floor next to the empty glass, a single memory pushed its way through the fog in Ianto’s brain. 

“Hang on – I remember dissolving the retcon in a water bottle and then taking it to bed. Why would I do that? There’s no way I’d want to forget anything we’d do in bed. Damn, I can’t ask you – I told me not to.” 

It was bad enough dealing with two separate Jacks, but Ianto had woken up to find that he was also having to come to terms with the fact that he had left himself instructions before retconning himself and he had no idea why he had done it. Although the evidence would suggest that he was not meant to remember why. 

The only good thing was that it was not all down to excess alcohol, which meant he could put an earlier resolution on hold.

Meanwhile, Jack felt bad for Ianto, he wanted to tell him that he had done this to himself for his benefit, to allow him to have a heart-to-heart safely with no risk to the timelines. However, that was not advisable, so all he could do was help Ianto recover from the symptoms. 

“Feel up to coming back to bed with me?”

“Yeah – why not? Help me up?”

It was as Jack helped Ianto back to their bed that he caught sight of the small slip of white paper under the door to their room. He made sure Ianto was safely tucked up in the bed, lying on his side, with plenty of pillows under his head before he went to retrieve the note. Stooping down to pick it up, he could see that it was a message from the concierge on official hotel stationery. 

“Hey, Ianto – looks like you’re not the only one leaving yourself messages, seems that I’ve been doing it as well.” 

Jack looked worried, not least by the fact he had a dizzy spell when he had bent down to retrieve the note. 

“Apparently I tried to call you last night.”

Ianto anxiously took the note from Jack and this time forced himself to focus on the message.

“Oh shit – my phone! Where is it? I bet he… I mean you… couldn’t get through on my mobile and got pissed off. Bloody hell, where is it?”

“Stay where you are – I’ll find it.” 

Jack felt a surge of guilt and another momentary attack of vertigo as he checked Ianto’s jacket pockets for the phone. Eventually he found it, switched it on and passed it to Ianto. As soon as he powered it up, it buzzed frantically as a string of messages uploaded.

“Shit, shit, shit. Nineteen missed calls. One unread text. Bollocks, I’m going to have to ring him, I mean you, now. For fuck’s sake don’t make a sound. Daft bugger is convinced I’ve been on the pull.”

Resting his head on the pillows, Ianto wasn’t overly surprised that Jack’s phone barely rang before it was answered.

“Hello? Yes, it’s me. I’m fine … OK, I probably don’t sound fine… no, not sick as in ill … too much wine I guess and I was out in the sun all day, and I’m not used to either. I’ll be fine, really… no, I don’t need you to get Owen to talk to me … honestly Jack … yes, I am in bed … What? … Boxers… I’m sorry, I was just saving the battery that’s all and as soon as I got in I just crashed out. Yes, really …” 

Ianto’s head hurt. Cardiff Jack was ranting in his ear about protocols and why he was meant to stay contactable at all times, then something about muggings and hospitals. At the same time, the mattress behind him shifted as the other Jack got under the covers and slid an arm underneath him, pulling him closer. Ianto bit his lip to keep from making a sound as he felt his arse being pressed against what felt suspiciously like an erection that wasn’t going to be easily ignored. However, despite all his best efforts, there was no keeping back a groan when Jack’s free hand snaked around his waist and slid under the waistband of his boxers.

“I’ll call later, OK? Need to… you know.” Ianto cut off whatever Jack in Cardiff was saying, desperate not to give him good cause to question his reasons for switching off his phone. “Yeah, good advice. I think I’ll stay in bed until I feel better… yeah. See you soon.” 

Throwing the phone to one side once he’d disconnected the call, Ianto grabbed hold of Jack’s hand, stilling it where it was.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Best hangover cure I know,” whispered Jack, as he kissed his way around the back of Ianto’s neck, along the exposed throat and then gently sucking on his right ear lobe. 

“Let me?”

The loosening of Ianto’s grip on the hand that was wrapped around his wakening cock was all the answer Jack needed.


	12. Chapter 12

“Well?” Jack murmured. 

He’d waited until Ianto’s breathing had returned to normal and there were signs that he could actually move his legs again. They’d been lying wrapped around one another, unwilling to shift, despite the damp patches on the sheets that had become cold beneath their warm skin, overheated and sticky with sweat. 

“Yes, you’re right – I do feel better.” Ianto grudgingly admitted. 

Although he figured that Owen’s hangover cure had also begun to kick in, he had started losing track of the headache and nausea as soon as he had felt Jack’s warm breath through the fabric of his boxers. 

“Told you so.” Jack grinned as he gently caressed Ianto’s back, letting his hand slide down and over the curve of his arse.

“But couldn’t you have waited until I’d finished talking to him-in-Cardiff? I bet he heard something –”

“You were getting more stressed out by the second – you needed the distraction.”

Jack held Ianto close and carefully pushed back a few unruly locks of hair from his forehead, damp with sweat. When their eyes met, he made a point of raising his eyebrows as if to dare him to deny the truth of what he had said. There was no point in Ianto protesting, he knew that the argument was a lost cause. 

Tucking Ianto’s head down onto his chest, Jack pondered the other reason for the timing of his amorous intervention. It had been the word ‘boxers’ that had clued him in, the fact that Ianto had been asked what he was wearing alerted him to the probability that his younger self was employing one of his low-level interrogation techniques. It came naturally to him, throwing in questions that were out of context, hoping to catch out the person being questioned and from the puzzled tone of Ianto’s voice when he had replied, Jack knew exactly what was going on. If he had failed to distract Ianto when he had, there was no guarantee that an apparently random question would not have elicited a response far more dangerous than a groan of pleasure, such as ‘white wine and retcon’ if asked what had caused the hangover. It was not that he thought that Ianto was inept at evading such questioning techniques, it was just that one of the ingredients of retcon made a person susceptible to suggestions – that was how they had managed to convince a large proportion of the population of Cardiff that weevils were kids wearing masks. Not only that, but Jack knew first-hand just how sneaky he could be when he wanted answers. He shuddered to think what he would have thought back then if he knew that Ianto had retconned himself.

Jack was not alone in considering the consequences of his actions. Ianto squirmed around until he could lie on his side and look Jack in the face.

“I groaned didn’t I?” Ianto had been completely unable to keep quiet when Jack had slipped his hand into his boxers. “When I was still on the phone.”

“Um … maybe?” Jack had the decency to look guilty.

“Shit. I’m screwed… was screwed, will be screwed, any conjugation of the verb you can think of.” Ianto rolled onto his back and shut his eyes, imagining how Jack in Cardiff would have reacted. “Oh fuck.” 

Ianto plucked a stray pillow from the pile of discarded bedding, pulled it across his face and attempted to hide. 

“You also told him … me… whatever, that you weren’t feeling well. It could have been a groan of pain.”

“Yeah, because that’s going to make him all the less pissed off with me. He was also going on about how he’d been worried I’d got mugged.”

Whichever way Ianto looked at it, he could not see how his phone call to Cardiff could have helped matters. 

“What if he tells me to return straightaway? What if he comes out here to fetch me?” 

Ianto was running his hand through his hair, frantically worrying over the possibilities, none of which were good. He sat up and started looking, once more for his phone. 

“I need to call him back.”

“Later – when your mental faculties are functioning better,” Jack insisted, pushing Ianto back down onto the bed. “After you get cleaned up and dressed, you’ll be in better frame of mind.” 

Jack looked meaningfully at the scrunched-up pair of boxers that he’d hastily dragged over Ianto’s hips, which now sat amongst the tangled sheets.

“OK.” 

Ianto nodded, acknowledging the fact that naked and post coital was not the best state in which to phone Jack, not if he was trying to reassure him that he’d just been feeling under the weather and not being felt up. He wondered if he was cheating on Jack with Jack. 

“But I’m making sure you’re out of the room when I do.”

“Probably a good idea,” Jack agreed. “Meanwhile– you know what you need? A nice relaxing bath and then we’ll go out and get some ice cream-”

“Ice cream gives me a headache,” Ianto frowned. 

The headache he’d woken up with had receded to a mild throbbing at the back of his skull and he did not want to do anything to jeopardise his recovery from it.

“Stop pouting – proper Italian ice cream won’t make your head hurt, I promise. Best ice cream in the galaxy, apart from this little place in …” Jack paused as he saw Ianto roll his eyes. “Never mind. Ice cream in Rome is wonderful – it will boost your blood sugar levels and is easy to eat. And I get to watch you lick it from your lips, maybe even help you out if no one’s looking.”

“You’re still incorrigible – did you know that?” Ianto shook his head at Jack in mock despair.

“You bring out the worst in me, Ianto Jones and I love you for that.” 

Jack kissed Ianto on the tip of his nose, sprung out of the bed and headed for the en suite without looking back. The loud splashing and gurgling sounds of water being run into the bathtub almost drowned out Ianto’s response. But not quite. Jack smiled even as tears ran down his cheeks and dripped into the foaming water.


	13. Chapter 13

“Owen!”

“You bellowed?”

Owen stood in the doorway to Jack’s office, wondering what the hell was wrong. There were times when Jack treated everything like a crisis and this was one of those times. It had taken the team a while to realise the debt of gratitude they owed Ianto for keeping those occasions to a minimum by reasoning with Jack first. Without the calming influence of Ianto, Jack was getting on everyone’s nerves and he had only been gone a couple of days.

“Ianto says he’s sick. I want you to talk to him.”

Jack decided that he would give Ianto the benefit of the doubt, as long as Owen was convinced he was genuinely unwell. Otherwise there was only one reason for him making a noise like the one he had just heard on the phone before Ianto cut the call short. Still determined to believe he did not ‘do’ jealousy, Jack reasoned that it was his duty of care to ensure that Ianto was not taking any risks that could compromise the security of Torchwood. After all, he rationalised to himself, he vetted everyone’s friends and bed partners, although he had found it difficult to keep up with all of Owen’s conquests.

“Since when did I do diagnosis over the phone? Do I look like I work for NHS Direct in my spare time?”

“You’re the team’s medic. One of my team is apparently unwell. I need to know if I’m gonna have to order him to get the next flight back for medical attention.”

Owen narrowed his eyes at Jack, wondering what the hell he was thinking. It almost sounded as if Jack wanted any excuse to renege on his agreement that Ianto could take the week off.

“Alright then, tell me what he said first. Then I’ll decide whether or not I need to talk to him in person.”

“He sounded awful and when I asked him if he was sick, he said something about too much wine and sun – come on now, does that sound like Ianto to you?” Jack couldn’t help but sound sceptical.

“Bloody hell, Jack.” Owen shook his head in disbelief and held out his hand to count off the reasons on his fingers as to why it sounded totally feasible to him. “One, he’s a Welshman, two, he’s still in his twenties, three, this is the first time he’s had the chance to get plastered in years – so yes, it sounds more than fucking likely.”

“That’s stereotyping, Owen. Just because he’s young and Welsh doesn’t make him an alcoholic.” Jack stood with his arms folded tightly across his chest, his chin jutting out defiantly. “Shame on you.”

“You obviously haven’t been out on a Saturday night in town recently.” Owen pointed out. “Come on, it’s not as if he hasn’t got good reason to go out and get rat-arsed. After all, you did book a romantic getaway – stop scowling! For fuck’s sake, a week in Rome does what it says on the tin!”

“Ianto wanted to visit the historic sites-” Jack interrupted half heartedly and then stopped when he realised that Owen could see right through him.

He had wanted to wine and dine Ianto somewhere warm and with a view. He had wanted to spoil him rotten and buy him a designer suit and silk shirts. Instead he was in a dark, lightless underground base and Ianto was stuck in Rome with Jack’s credit card as a substitute for his company.

“Whatever. But, like I said you insisted on taking him away for a week, forced him to accept that he needed a break, got him to make all the bookings and then you stood him up.”

“He understood that with Gwen out of action there was no way I could join him,” protested Jack. Although hearing Owen phrase it like that stirred his conscience and he realised that if he was in Ianto’s place, he would be feeling let down to say the least.

“It’s one thing understanding – I understand that I’m never going to get drunk again, but it still makes me fucking mad that I can’t.” Owen really missed going out, or staying in, and obliterating the day’s traumas with alcohol. “What’s more, he’s probably never been exposed to that much sun in his life, so chances of mild heat stroke are also well within the bounds of possibility.”

Jack shrugged, feeling slightly foolish for having doubted Ianto.

“So, it’s plausible that he’s got a hangover on top of the symptoms of heat stroke then?”

“Yeah – poor sod. I bet he’s been sick as a dog, has a splitting headache and can’t open his eyes without seeing the room spin around him. I hope he packed some of the green pills.”

“So, would that account for say … him slurring his words and-” Jack swallowed hard. “… groaning?”

“If he hasn’t been able to keep down any medication and is possibly still half-pissed? Oh yes…” said Owen wistfully, before slapping his forehead. “Bloody hell, I’m getting nostalgic for hangovers now.”

“OK. So I’d be an idiot if it crossed my mind that it sounded as if he was in bed with someone?”

“Yes. Despite what I might have said in the past, he’s a stupid sod and is one hundred percent committed to you – fuck knows why.”

“Really?”

“Jack, is ‘paranoid’ the default setting for your brain? Or will it help if I shot you and got it to reset? And, before you ask, I am not phoning him up and neither are you. He needs to sleep that off in peace. If you haven’t heard from him by this afternoon I’d give him a call then to check how he’s feeling, but don’t have a go at him, got it?”

“Of course not.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack was relieved that Owen’s professional opinion was that Ianto was suffering from an awful hangover coupled with the effects of too much sun. He should have felt bad for doubting Ianto, but he did not.

Especially not when he was pleasantly surprised by a call from Ianto later that morning. He had sounded much better, even if he did decline the offer of phone sex, despite Jack’s assurance that there was nothing like an orgasm to take the edge off a hangover headache.

Jack Harkness did not ‘do’ jealousy. He was a ‘live and let live’ kind of guy, which was not saying much as all he could do was keep living.

But he was surprised at how much he was missing Ianto after only a few days. He chose to ignore the voice in his head that suggested that it was the thought of Ianto being with someone else that had made him realise how much he wanted him all to himself.

That was not jealousy. Not really.


	14. Chapter 14

“So, I take it you forgot about the traffic in Rome?” Ianto asked petulantly, brushing crumbs off the plastic chair he was about to sit on.

“What do you mean?” asked Jack. He was distracted as he tried to adjust the parasol umbrella above their table to keep the sun off Ianto.

“Quote ‘what you need is a nice walk in the fresh air’, end quote.” Ianto glared at Jack.

“And?” Jack shrugged as he took a seat opposite Ianto.

“When you said a walk in the fresh air, did you actually mean a dash through the streets to avoid choking on exhaust fumes?”

“You’re exaggerating – it wasn’t that bad. Trust me – I’ve been places where the traffic is permanently gridlocked and no one gets out of their cars, ever. That was nothing-”

“Really? Considering that I was looking forward to a week of not having to run for my life, I wasn’t expecting to end up almost flattened by a nun.”

“Hey - I’d pay good money to see that.” Jack waggled his eyebrows lecherously.

“Not helping,” stated Ianto, grumpily. “It’s all your fault - you told me it was safe to cross.”

“It was-”

“I nearly got run over! I was struck by a moving vehicle!”

“Not by the traffic on the road though –” Jack pointed out as if that totally exonerated him of all blame.

“Oh no, by a nun reversing her Smart Car up onto the pavement into a tiny gap between parked cars!”

Jack bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. He had been ahead of Ianto when the Smart Car stopped in the middle of the road and suddenly swept around in a precise arc to park at right angles to the other vehicles on the roadside. Unfortunately, Ianto had failed to note that the beeping of horns had become more frequent and had failed to move fast enough, with the end result that the rear end of the car had clipped him.

“You’ve gotta give her marks for style – three point turn straight into a parking space.”

“She hit me!”

“It was just a little bump – you’ll be fine. I did offer to kiss it better for you.”

Jack regretted not having captured a picture of that scene – although video would have been better. Ianto had been rubbing his backside, whilst cursing the driver of the car loudly in both English and Welsh. As the air turned metaphorically blue, it had been Ianto’s face that took on a bright pink hue when he saw the diminutive old lady get out of the car, wearing the black habit of one of the local convents, clutching her rosary and looking horrified.

“Remind me, Ianto – what was it you called her?”

“Don’t.” Ianto put his head in his hands and shook his head, thoroughly mortified. “I can’t remember – must be residual effect of the retcon.”

Jack grinned and decided not to embarrass Ianto any further – his dignity had taken enough of a nosedive for one day and he still wanted to get him to share an ice cream.

“Here – look through the list of flavours and tell me what you fancy.” Jack pushed a menu in front of Ianto and smiled indulgently. “And if it gives you a headache you have my word that I’ll take your mind off it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Ianto smiled shyly as he held the menu in front of his face, pretending to survey the range of gelati and sorbets.

“This is the best gelateria in Rome,” insisted Jack emphatically. “Apparently they won’t sell the ice cream in cones as it spoils the flavours.”

“How do you know that?” Ianto asked suspiciously, wondering how he would know that amount of detail, yet could not recall the name of a strawberry at breakfast.

“You got me - I read your guidebook while you were in the shower. I looked up gelaterias in the vicinity of the Trevi Fountain. This one- Il Gelato di San Crispino- had the best write up.”

Turning to look at the glass-fronted counter, Ianto was impressed with the enormous range of freshly made gelati – ranging from an enormous variety of fruit flavours, each garnished with slices of fresh fruit, to rich, dark chocolate confections that looked sinfully decadent. There were also strawberry, peach, melon and kiwi sorbets, glistening with jewel-like colours.

“I have to admit, they do look good,” muttered Ianto, reluctantly.

Although Ianto had thought Jack’s suggestion of ice cream was principally fuelled by salacious motives, he began to relish the idea of having something cool, fruity and sweet to eat. He was feeling slightly lightheaded and knew that Jack had a point about needing to boost his blood sugar levels.

“Oh yeah, those creamy mounds at the end there? That’s fior de latte apparently. Translates as ‘flower of milk’. Looks like-”

“Thank you – no need to share what you’re imagining right now. Not in public.”

“If you say so. Right then - no less than three different flavours,” announced Jack, as if laying down the rules of a dare.

“Three? Alright then, I’ll have limone … that will be refreshing, albicocca and fior di latte.”

“Lemon, apricot and the pale one? That’s not very adventurous –”

“It’s all I think I can deal with at the moment,. Much as I’d love to try the coffee and chocolate flavours, my stomach lining would prefer something more delicate for now.” Ianto said apologetically noting the disappointment on Jack’s face. “We can always come back here tomorrow.”

Jack grinned like a child before getting up to order without letting Ianto know what he was getting for himself.

Although happy to have chosen to give this man the chance to make good memories to soothe his obviously troubled soul, Ianto wished that the Jack stuck back in Cardiff, probably chasing weevils in rain-soaked alleyways, could be here with him. It occurred to him that his Jack would also have benefited from a respite from the duties and responsibilities that weighed him down. He could have done with having no decisions to make for a day other than which flavour ice cream to eat. Ianto’s wistful thoughts were interrupted as he caught sight of the two dishes that Jack was carrying back on a tray to their table.

“What the hell have you got there?” Ianto asked, looking at the brown, purple and red scoops that were heaped up in a dish, adorned with cherry compote and fresh strawberries.

It looked as if the Jack had either ordered extra large helpings for himself or he had just worked his charm on whoever had served him. One glance in the direction of the counter confirmed to Ianto that it was definitely the latter, the young man wiping clean the glass display case had his eyes firmly fixed on Jack’s rear quarters. He decided he would definitely have to buy him some nice, loose-fitting chinos.

“Stop smirking, Jack – tell me what you’ve got for yourself, apart from double portions and, if I’m not mistaken, a phone number.”

Jack had the grace to look slightly abashed as he handed over the napkin with the hastily scrawled mobile phone number, along with a long-handled sundae spoon.

“I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by rejecting him outright. It probably took a lot of guts for him to do that-”

“I blame those bloody pheromones. The poor kid probably didn’t know what hit him. Now, are you going to tell me what flavours you’ve got there or not?”

“Cioccolato fondente extra noir, caffè, fragola and frutti di bosco.”

“Dark chocolate and coffee,” Ianto nodded approvingly as he understood two of the choices. “But I’m not sure they go with strawberry and berry flavours.”

“I liked the colours.”

Jack smiled. He seemed to recall that Ianto looked particularly fine wearing shirts of those particular shades, but he wasn’t going to tell him that was the reasoning behind his choice of flavours. In fact, he’d forgotten what some of these flavours tasted like. In the future many were artificially recreated, the original plants from which they had come having become extinct. It was a pleasure to taste the gelati made with fresh ingredients, vibrant with flavours. Almost as delicious as watching Ianto slowly savouring each and every spoonful, drawing the spoon between his lips and into his mouth to lick it clean before repeating with a fresh flavour each time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling surprisingly better for having eaten a bowl full of his own ice cream, plus spoonfuls of Jack’s that had been fed to him from across the table, Ianto had to admit that his scepticism had been misplaced. Not only did he feel energised, he did not have the slightest trace of a headache. Of course, the fact that Jack had pursued him into the gents’ toilets at the back of the shop and then proceeded to press him against a door, on the pretence of making sure there were no smears of ice cream left on his lips, had also helped. Jack had been very thorough, using his tongue to lap up every last trace of the sweet flavours from every part of Ianto’s mouth and not just his lips. It was only the hammering on the door by another customer that stopped Jack’s ministrations going any further. Despite the fact that his jeans felt rather uncomfortable, Ianto was glad they had been interrupted, being thrown out of an ice cream parlour for lewd behaviour was not in his plans for the day.

“Trevi Fountain next – come on, you’ve gotta toss a coin in the fountain.”

Jack grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand and dragged him towards the huge marble edifice, the water almost roaring as it came splashing out across the rocks beneath the figures of horses and into the basin. There were throngs of tourists and souvenir vendors milling around the square, which was mostly taken up by the fountain, but Jack managed to forge a way through to the front with little trouble.

Even though Ianto had been made painfully aware of the fact that he would never be returning to Rome, he did not want to spoil Jack’s fun by reminding him. He had never seen Jack quite so cheerful and carefree; it would have been churlish to refuse to throw a few coins and make a wish.

Ianto stood with his back to the fountain and threw three one-euro coins over his left shoulder with his right hand, for luck according to the latest tradition, at least that way he did not have to dwell on the returning to Rome aspect of the custom. He kept his eyes on Jack’s as he did so, basking in the warmth and affection that almost shone from the older man’s face. As he let go of the last coin he heard a small child let out a dreadful wail of anguish that had Jack responding instantly. Ianto turned to see Jack dashing to the aid of a soft toy that had inadvertently ended up taking a dip in the fountain. Ever the hero, Jack could not help running to the rescue. Ianto smiled as he made his way through the crowds to provide back up in the bid to save the cuddly bunny.

As Jack plunged his arm into the icy cold water, reaching out to grasp an ear of the sodden, pink bunny, he felt shivery all over. His head spun as the sound of the water cascading over the marble rocks became a drone of white noise, blotting out the sobs of the small child and the shouting of people around him. Looking up it seemed as if the hooves of the horses carved from marble were about to come crashing down on him. The only thing keeping Jack from falling over the ledge and into the water were strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him back to safety.

“Hang on, I’ve got you.” Ianto’s voice whispered reassuringly into his ear.

Taking the sopping wet bunny from Jack’s hand, Ianto returned it to the grateful mother, who hurried off with her child in tow, no doubt on the verge of a second tantrum over the state of its beloved bunny.

“Sit down.” Ianto’s concerned voice filtered through the muffled sounds that echoed in Jack’s head. “You OK?”

“I don’t know, Ianto. I really don’t.” Jack sat with his back to the wall of the fountain, letting Ianto hold him close. What he did know was that the episode of dizziness that had assaulted him was far worse than any of the preceding ones.


	15. Chapter 15

Ianto had an arm around Jack and was cradling his head against his shoulder, protecting him from being jostled by the throngs of people pushing past them to get closer to the fountain. Sitting with their backs to the wall surrounding the basin, they were on the receiving end of many annoyed comments from a group of tourists with cameras around their necks, thwarted from getting any closer to the fountain.

“Are you going to tell me what all these dizzy spells are really about?”

“I already told you- ” Jack bit his tongue as he realised he was referring to a discussion that Ianto had retconned from his memory. “Damn, I didn’t mean to say that.” 

“Ah – so that’s one of the things you told me about last night. Which means you can’t tell me now.” Ianto nodded sagely, before putting the back of his hand to Jack’s forehead. “You’re not sick are you? You never get sick.”

“No, Ianto. I’m not ill. It’s just that… I dunno…” Jack shuddered as he remembered the various myths associated with the Trevi Fountain. “I think … perhaps it was seeing you throw coins into the fountain got to me.”

“I wondered if it would.” Ianto sighed. “It’s just a silly superstition.”

“You’d be surprised.” Jack smiled secretively, not wanting to give anything else away. 

He surreptitiously reached across to press a button on the edge of his wrist strap, which was still wet from when he had plunged his arms into the water. It had been quietly buzzing, alerting him to the presence of certain minerals that should not be there. The Trevi Fountain had kept its secrets for over two hundred and fifty years, courtesy of the waters from one of the most ancient of aqueducts – the Aqua Virgo, built nearly two thousand years ago. 

“No way. Are you telling me it’s true?” Ianto asked dubiously, knowing from experience that when Jack was at his most enigmatic, it meant that he was either hiding a profound secret or just making things up. 

“There have been stranger things happen.” Jack winked. “People have kept returning to Rome again and again for centuries – it’s not called the Eternal City for nothing.”

“They might just keep coming back for the ice cream.” Ianto shrugged as his thoughts took a melancholy turn. “Anyway, from what you’ve implied, I figure I definitely won’t be coming back, so that scuppers that theory.”

Jack frowned – he wondered why he had let Ianto think that. Although he could not tell Ianto what the future held, he knew for a fact that they would be returning to Rome. It had been straight after dealing with the aliens inhabiting the large hadron collider at CERN. He shuddered as he remembered the state Ianto had been in after his close call with death, down in the tunnel deep beneath the surface. After Martha had examined him, she had taken Jack to one side and made him promise to take Ianto away for a few days before going back to work. He had asked Gwen, no, not Gwen, it was Tosh who had helped him make the arrangements in secret. He shook his head puzzled at thinking it had been Gwen who had gone there with them. A memory bubbled to the surface – the three of them on the plane on the way out to Switzerland, Tosh on his right in the window seat, babbling excitedly about the wonders of the LHC and the search for evidence of the Higgs boson. Ianto had sat to his left, using Jack’s shoulder as a head rest, pretending to sleep while all the time he holding onto his hand tightly. 

“Jack? Jack! Are you alright?” Ianto was crouched opposite Jack and shaking him gently by the shoulders, calling out his name and looking more than a little worried. “Jack? Are you still with me? What’s the matter?”

“Ianto? What-?”

“You tell me. You got this blank look on your face, like you’d just switched off –scared the shit out of me.” Ianto frowned. “What’s going on with you?”

Jack slowly shook his head and reached out to take Ianto’s hand. Seeing the concern etched in Ianto’s features he smiled – a smile that started small and grew into a big grin. Not being able to identify the reason why he felt so happy, Jack just grabbed hold of Ianto and hugged him tight. 

Ianto felt his shirt becoming damp, and knew it was not just from the dripping wet shirt sleeves. He stuck a hand deep into a jacket pocket and dug around trying to find a handkerchief for Jack, he pulled out an unused napkin from the gelateria and rejected it as it was too insubstantial. He pushed it back into his pocket resolving to throw it away later; despite the piles of litter everywhere, Ianto could not bring himself to add to it, so he decided to dispose of it properly back at the hotel. Once he found the neatly folded handkerchief, he shook it open with one hand and passed it to Jack.

“Here, you might want to dry yourself off a bit.” Ianto knew better than to draw attention to the Captain’s tears when they were out in public. 

Jack gratefully accepted the gesture and used it to dab his borrowed shirt first before wiping his face and blowing his nose. He had been overwhelmed by a feeling of joyful relief and he could not understand why.

“You know what we should do now?” Ianto said, smiling fondly.

“What?”

“Go shopping. For a start you’ve now messed up two of my shirts. Also, you can’t keep wearing my jeans, your arse is making a nuisance of itself. Can’t have you causing a crash because the drivers were distracted by your magnificent rear end. That alone could change history right there.” 

Ianto joked as he pushed himself up off the ground and held out a hand to assist Jack.

“You’re just jealous because Giovanni gave me his number.” Jack pouted, accepting the distraction for what it was.

“Giovanni?” Ianto rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known you got his name as well.”

“He flashed me his name badge-”

“As long as that’s all he flashed you.” 

Jack could have sworn he heard Ianto growl. He liked that.


	16. Chapter 16

Ianto drew out some cash from his own bank account to buy Jack some lightweight trousers and a few polo shirts that fit him properly. He also insisted on Jack picking out some socks and underwear, despite a cheeky suggestion that he go commando for a few days.

While Ianto was paying for their purchases, Jack discreetly had a word with the shop assistant and then smiled to himself.

As they walked out onto the Via dei Condotti, Jack went back to the cash machine Ianto had used beforehand, and using some device on his wrist strap, he managed to get it to disgorge an enormous wad of notes. Seeing Ianto’s shocked expression, Jack had mumbled something about the ‘family’ owing him.

Before Ianto could protest at what appeared to be criminal activity, Jack hailed a taxi and winked at him.

“Now it’s time to take you shopping Mr Jones, Ianto Jones.”

“What are you up to?” demanded Ianto, before taking his life in his hands and getting inside a Roman taxi.

After a short, but eventful journey, involving irate traffic police and several close misses with both pedestrians and other vehicles, Ianto was of the opinion that the driver should pay them rather than the other way around. Jack had just chuckled to himself, before shooing him out of the car and paying the driver with a wad of notes.

Ianto shook his head as he took his bearings and saw that they were standing in the Piazza Barberini, across from the Triton Fountain.

“What is it with you and fountains today? I’m not throwing a coin in that one, even if it does have the same tradition.”

“We’re not here for the fountain, although I am pleased that Bernini did such a magnificent job with that torso –”

“If you try telling me you were the model for Triton, it will be you that gets thrown in the water.”

“Hey, you have to admit there are similarities,” commented Jack, puffing up his chest in a manner that threatened the stitching. “No, we’re here for the Via Barberini.”

“Yes – and what is the significance of that?”

“Over there is our destination.” Jack pointed at a smart shop front with stylish white canopies, impeccable despite the pollution. “See that store?”

“What?” Ianto’s voice went up an octave as he let out an involuntary squeal. “Brioni?”

“Time to buy you that suit.”

“But – they make the best suits in the whole of Italy.” Ianto was evidently awestruck.

“Are you feeling shaken or stirred, Mr Jones?” asked Jack, with a smug smirk.

“Shit.” Ianto swore and rolled his eyes. “Of course, Brioni made the suits for Pierce Brosnan’s and Daniel Craig’s Bonds. But how the hell did you know that?”

“I didn’t – I just asked where to get the best suit in town and they told me this was the place. It was the guy in the other store who told me they made suits for James Bond. As soon as he said that I just knew this was the place.”

Jack was almost bouncing with excitement as he grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand and began to drag him across the pavement towards the shop.

“No, Jack, I can’t.” Ianto protested, pulling back and standing firm. “Do you have any idea how much those suits cost?”

“Not a clue – but I guess by the look on your face they’re expensive.”

“Bloody hell, Jack – they cost a fortune. I couldn’t possibly-”

“Yes, you can. I insist.”

“But-”

“Trust me, he won’t mind.”

  
“Moot point really as I don’t think they’ll even let us inside the shop looking like this.”

Ianto made a point of staring at the tight jeans and crumpled shirt that Jack was wearing. Even though he was wearing a linen jacket with his outfit, he was all too aware of how underdressed they both were. Even his smartest suit back in Cardiff would be sniffed at in a store with the reputation that Brioni’s had. The firm catered to the famous and wealthy – a quick Google on his phone indicated that they had provided suits for Clark Gable, Richard Burton, Bobby Kennedy and Vladimir Putin. The closest any of those came to him was Richard Burton and all they shared was a common motherland.

“They’ll serve me,” said Jack with complete authority. “Trust me.”

Ianto should have known that Jack could con his way into the store. He had breezed in and announced that he held an account under the name of Colasanto and that he really wanted a nice suit for his young companion.

“Oi!” hissed Ianto as soon as the suavely dressed salesman turned away to check the ledgers for Jack’s account details. “They think you’re my sugar daddy. And where did that name come from?”

“Well, I’m definitely old enough to be your father. As for the name – nothing for you to worry about, it’s ancient history.”

“What? He exists? Come on, let’s go before we get thrown out.”

“We’re not getting thrown out – you’ve still got that charge card, yes? The one in my name? You can use that to pay for it.”

“You in Cardiff will have a fit!”

“Not when he sees you in that charcoal grey suit.” Jack pointed at the elegant three-piece suit on the manikin. “Come on, wide shoulders, narrow hips … you’ll look gorgeous in that. Didn’t he say you should get yourself a suit?”

“Well – yes, he did.”

Ianto reflected on the fact that during his earlier phone conversation with Jack, he had reiterated that he was looking forward to seeing Ianto in a new suit and that he regretted that he would not be there to help him out in the changing room. He had also made it very clear that money was no object.

“Hang on – give me a few minutes. Don’t get into trouble in the meantime!”

Ianto stepped outside the store leaving Jack to wait for the sales assistant to come back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Cardiff, Jack was chewing on a piece of stale, cold pizza when his phone received an incoming message. He cheered up when he saw it was from Ianto. Opening it, he found a quick note and a picture. The photo showed the frontage of a smart looking clothing store, specifically a beautifully tailored suit in the window, with the hazy reflection of Ianto superimposed onto top of it.

He squinted at the image of Ianto and zoomed in to see that he appeared to be frowning and biting his lip.

The message was short and to the point: Brioni? Yes or no?

Pushing the plate of day-old pizza to one side, Jack typed Brioni into a search engine and smiled as he accessed details and pictures of models wearing the exquisitely styled suits.

He quickly typed back an answer: ‘Yes please!’

Within seconds his phone rang– this time Ianto wanted to speak to him.

“Yes, I’m sure. I can see how much they cost … I did say not to worry about that…. I can afford it. Think of it as me indulging myself … I get to enjoy it as well.”

Jack could hear the hesitation in Ianto’s voice, saying he would understand if it was too extravagant. He had even suggested trying one on, getting someone in the store to take a picture and sending that to Jack if all he wanted was to see him in one of the suits. He could tell it was going to take a lot to convince Ianto that he was worth the expense. Yet again, he wondered if Owen was right in how he perceived their relationship.

“Listen up, you can’t wear one of those suits with shirts from Next and ties from M&S. Get the whole package … the works … yes, I mean it. I just looked up that charcoal grey suit, not only does it look good, but I bet the soft wool and silk mix will feel even better stretched over - yes, I am getting turned on just thinking about it! You know me too damn well.”

Jack grinned as his free hand absently sought out the proof of Ianto’s accusation. He was definitely going to try to persuade Ianto to indulge in phone sex later on.

“Go on – get in there and definitely get the sales guy to take pictures of you so I’ve got something to fantasise about. Yeah … hang on, damn rift alarm. Gotta go … you take care of yourself …yeah, missing you too.”

Jack disconnected the call and took one more look at the image of Ianto, clad in casual clothes and looking pensive, reflected in the window of one of the most exclusive menswear stores in Rome and sighed. He really was missing Ianto and he wished he could be there with him, helping him choose more than one elegant suit, a few that would show off his broad shoulders and lean physique. Wistfully, he pondered that if he was there he could make sure that Ianto spoiled himself properly and he would have made sure he never got to see the price tags.

“Damn – instead of helping Ianto in and out of gorgeous suits all afternoon, I get to chase weevils around back alleys.”

There were times when Jack knew for certain that the universe hated him.


	17. Chapter 17

It was much later in the day when Ianto woke up to find Jack wrapped around him in such a way that the likelihood of rolling out of the bed was zero. Reaching out for his watch to find out the time, he knocked his phone from the nightstand and groaned as it all came flooding back to him. When would he learn not to go along with anything that Jack Harkness suggested? Especially two of them.

Phone sex was all well and good, they had often indulged in it when Ianto had been sent back to his flat alone, ostensibly to get some sleep, whilst Jack had stayed behind at the Hub monitoring the rift. However, having one Jack hundreds of miles away in Cardiff breathily explaining in precise detail what he wanted to do and another one, actually in the room, obligingly carrying out those very instructions, was another matter entirely.

Ianto blamed the man that was still clinging onto him, it had been his idea to put the phone on the nightstand with the speaker on. That had been bad enough but preventing him from retrieving it by tying his hands together, with the belt from a bathrobe, and attaching them to the headboard had been diabolical. Having to listen to Jack’s voice describe exactly how he would go down on him, whilst the one in the room was caressing the underside of his cock with his tongue had almost been too much for Ianto. It was a blessing in disguise that the only name he could call out was Jack’s. Chuckling quietly to himself as he considered how preposterous the whole situation was, Ianto was startled out of his thoughts by an elbow to the ribs.

Turning quickly to check on his sleeping partner, Ianto instantly detected that Jack was experiencing a vivid nightmare. He was moving his head from side to side on the pillow as if desperately trying to deny something. Suddenly Jack rolled over and grabbed hold of Ianto’s arms, crying out in his sleep:

“Not him, please, not him! Anything, but not him. I take it all back. Don’t go! Stay with me, please … don’t leave me … please, don’t leave me… I didn’t tell you before… I love you … ”

Jack’s pleas were interspersed with sobs as tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the pillow.

Biting back his own emotions, Ianto sighed. It was the Doctor. Jack was dreaming about him again. Ever since returning from his travels with the Time Lord, Jack’s nightmares had become more frequent and Ianto had grown used to hearing him call out in the night, begging not to be abandoned again. He knew that Jack’s feelings for the Doctor transcended anything he could ever feel for a mere human such as himself, but he hated hearing the hurt in Jack’s voice as his nocturnal confessions admitted more than he would ever do in his waking hours.

“Hush there, it’s OK, just a dream. Hey there, come on. It’s OK, you’re alright now …” Ianto gently rocked the trembling body, comforting Jack as he gradually surfaced from the nightmare gripping him.

“Ianto?” Jack seemed surprised that he was there.

“Yeah – it’s me.” Ianto wondered if he’d forgotten that he’d travelled back in time to visit him. “Remember?”

“It’s really you?” Jack held onto Ianto tightly, forcing his mind to accept the reality he was holding onto over the images that had haunted his dreams. Images of Ianto dying in his arms.

“Yeah – it’s alright. You were having a nightmare.”

“Damn – did I wake you up?” Jack leaned away slightly so that he could see Ianto’s face.

“No, I was already awake.” Ianto shrugged and tried to look away.

“Did I say anything?” Jack asked, glimpsing the pain in Ianto’s eyes

“Nothing I could make out.”

The brief hesitation was all it took for Jack to tell that Ianto was lying.

“What was it?” Jack needed to know what Ianto had heard. He needed to know that he had not heard anything about his own death. “What did I say?”

“It was about him, wasn’t it? Your fucking Doctor! He’s hurt you again, hasn’t he?” Ianto blurted out angrily. “Sorry, you can’t say. Timelines and shit… forget I said anything. It’s OK.”

Flabbergasted, Jack could not think of what to say. He had not expected Ianto to make that connection. Meanwhile, Ianto stumbled out of the bed and headed for the en-suite. Sitting up, Jack held his head in his hands and wondered what on earth he could possibly say to put Ianto’s mind at rest. Letting him continue to think that he’d been calling out for the Doctor was dishonest and hurtful, but telling him the truth would be equally devastating.

Before Jack could decide what to do he felt a warm hand grasp his own to move it from his face and a cool glass touch his lips. He cursed to himself, Ianto was still looking after him. Regardless of how upset he was, Ianto was doing what he could to care for Jack.

“I don’t deserve you – didn’t then and not now.” Jack shook his head miserably as he took the glass and sipped the water.

“Bollocks. Don’t give me that self pitying bullshit. I don’t want to hear it. You’re here with me for a few more days yet. Let’s make the most of them.”

Ianto was sitting next to Jack, grateful for the dimness of the room. It would not do for Jack to see that his eyes were red. He had given himself a talking to in the bathroom and resolved to put aside his feelings. He had made a promise to make some good memories for Jack to take with him at the end of the week and dwelling on his opinion of the Doctor would not accomplish that.

“Yeah – sounds good to me.” Jack wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. His mind was made up. “Just one thing, Ianto – it wasn’t him that I was calling for. It was you. I… it was one of those dreams when someone you love is being taken away from you and … well, you know… it was you …”

“OK…” Ianto nodded slowly, assimilating what Jack was telling him. Not the Doctor, that was good. Him. Jack’s nightmare had been about him. He then considered the other element of Jack’s confession. “Someone you… you love?”

“Yeah… that a problem?” Jack asked anxiously.

Ianto’s mind was under siege and the one thought spinning around was inescapable. Jack had basically told him that he loved him. He was not sure what to think.

“No… no… not a problem. It’s … no, that’s good. You know that …”

“I always did, Ianto. Always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alone in his narrow bunk, under his office, Jack Harkness was not sleeping. But he was smiling. He had been on the phone for nigh on a whole hour, teasing Ianto slowly as he described the reverential way in which he would peel him out of the suit he had just bought and what he would do with him once he was at his mercy. Jack prided himself on his imagination and his suggestions were always guaranteed to arouse his lovers, but even he was impressed by the way Ianto had desperately begged not to be restrained. Letting his hand stray beneath the loose cotton sheet, seeking out an erection that demanded attention, Jack closed his eyes and imagined the scene of his young lover, tied by his wrists to the bed, stretched out naked, straining against the ropes, his back arching and hips thrusting upwards.

Any suspicions he may have had that Ianto had hooked up with anyone else were quickly dispelled as he revelled in memories of Ianto’s noisy and unfettered responses to his instructions. Hearing Ianto call out his name loud and clear as he was coming had sent thrills up and down Jack’s spine that had nothing to do with his own release. Jack grunted as he spilled over his hand for the second time that night.

Jack realised that he wanted Ianto to himself exclusively and was prepared to make that commitment to him in return. He had made a mess of letting Ianto know what he meant to him and that was all about to change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whilst Ianto was getting a shower, Jack was brooding. Despite having woken up in a good mood, fragments of nightmares still lingered in his mind, worrying him like a terrier with a bone. The central theme of the nightmare was a recurring one – Ianto dying in his arms. It was fuelled by memories, yet the circumstances surrounding his lover’s death shifted - anything from deletion to extermination, but at the core it was always the same, Ianto cradled in his arms as he begged him not to leave him. Their last words to one another were carved indelibly on his soul and they never varied, not once – every single time his subconscious tortured him with Ianto’s last moments, it relayed those broken sentences faithfully, an eternal reminder of Jack’s shameful cowardice. They remained unaltered – but something was different and that bothered Jack.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to see Ianto’s eyes flicker shut for the final time – the grey blue no longer sparkling like the sea. He recalled leaning over to brush his lips against Ianto’s mouth, one last kiss. He had promised never to forget Ianto and he never would.


	18. Chapter 18

Ianto had made a shopping list. The first item had been duly ticked off once they had bought a compact camera for Jack to use, after he had been told him in no uncertain terms that he could not keep using the recording device on his wrist strap in public. It helped that the condition had been if he used the camera in public Ianto would allow the use of the wrist strap in the bedroom. Naturally, Jack’s cooperation was guaranteed.

Jack had scuppered the rest of Ianto’s plans by dragging him into a gift shop when he spotted some prints of ancient Roman, erotic wall paintings.

“Sightseeing first, then souvenir shopping – come on, we don’t want to be carrying this stuff around with us all day.” Ianto tried, in vain, to be pragmatic. But Jack’s enthusiasm was not to be stifled by common sense. Not to mention his pouting.

“I’ll carry the bags if that’s what’s bothering you. Don’t be a spoilsport, Ianto – we’ll look around the ruins later.”

Ianto was forced to submit. He sighed and decided to look for gifts to take back to Wales for his family and friends. He picked up some postcards. One of a statue of a satyr seemed particularly appropriate for Jack – the description on the back reading: ‘A satyr - a Dionysian creature, lover of wine, women and boys, ready for every physical pleasure.’

Despairing at his overflowing basket of souvenirs, Ianto couldn’t help but smile when Jack laughed at him. However, before he could justify breaking his own unspoken rules, Ianto’s phone began to ring. He’d made sure, after the previous incident, to keep it fully charged and switched on at all times. The signal inside the shop was weak, so Ianto shoved his basket at Jack and pointed at the queue for the cashier before making his way out onto the street. It was noisy there, but at least the connection was slightly stronger.

“Jack? No – not here!” Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack’s enquiry. The man was completely incorrigible. “Yes, I did sleep well, thank you … I’m on the street … outside a gift shop. For my niece and nephew… what have I got? A Roman centurion outfit, it’s brilliant, David’s going to love it, got the sword and everything… mind you Rhi will give me hell over it … what’s that? You want me to get one for you? I don’t think they do them big enough for you and I’m not – what’s that? Not for you? … for a ten-year-old? Can you repeat that? A child? Jack- is there something you need to tell me? Jack!”

Ianto stared at his phone. The call had been disconnected – either because of a weak signal or his question. He swallowed hard. There was only one thing that could mean. Jack had a child. He had no idea know how to feel about that. There would have to be a mother – he wondered if Jack had a wife, he never denied keeping secrets, but that would have been a massive one. Ianto had always assumed Jack lived in the Hub, but what if he had a home, with a partner and kid … all those times he disappeared for hours on end. It would certainly explain why he was always making excuses for not being able to stay the night at Ianto’s place. Ianto felt sick to his stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Jack emerged from the shop, grasping several bulging carrier bags, Ianto was nowhere in sight. Glancing around rapidly, Jack spotted him pushing his way through the crowds of tourists, heading away from the shop. He called out, but Ianto did not stop.

A wave of dizziness swept over Jack, muffling the sounds of vendors trying to sell him trinkets. He came to as someone attempted to snatch a shopping bag that he had dropped. Jack’s instincts cut in and he quickly grabbed the bag back and then chased after Ianto.

What the hell had he done now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto!” Jack yelled at the non-responding phone. His attempts to re-establish the connection were proving futile. Each and every time he got the same message that the number was unavailable.

He cursed himself for letting his guard down, all it had taken was one moment’s carelessness. The existence of his daughter and grandson was something he guarded so fiercely that not even Ianto knew about them. Although he had considered taking Ianto into his confidence, he had wanted to discuss it with Melissa – Alice, first. It would have put his mind at rest, knowing that Ianto could keep an eye on them if anything were to call him away again.

He tried again to call the number.

“Come on, Ianto – talk to me!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, Ianto – talk to me.” Jack crouched down to get Ianto’s attention. He was sitting despondently on the remains of a fallen marble pillar, his head in his hands.

Jack had chased Ianto through the streets and up the steps leading to the Capitoline Hill. Ianto had wandered aimlessly amongst the ruins until he had found a place on a hillside, as far from the crowds as he could, and had then just come to a stop.

“What’s the point? It’s not as if you can give me any answers.”

Ianto looked up at Jack and rubbed his face wearily. He was frustrated and hurt – Jack was keeping something from him and this man, at his feet, who had told him he loved him, and had admitted he had always known that Ianto felt the same, he knew what it was.

“Probably not, but at least tell me why you stormed off like you did. Was it something I did?”

“Sort of - it was something that you in Wales just let slip.” Ianto acknowledged.

Jack set the bags of shopping to one side and took a seat next to Ianto, putting an arm around his shoulders, ostensibly to comfort him, but also to keep him from running off again.

“Tell me.”

“You know what? I’ve been sitting here, wracking my brain trying to think of plausible reasons why you’d want a centurion outfit for a ten-year-old – and I keep coming back to the same answer.” Ianto sighed. “I think I can dismiss the notion that you’re moonlighting as Santa Claus and have the weevils wrapping up gifts for children’s homes. Then there’s the possibility you’ve got a small alien lover stashed away that you fancied dressing up. For a start you wouldn’t have hidden either of those activities from me – you’d have boasted about them.”

The last comment made Jack wince, but then the essence of what Ianto was telling him hit home – a sense of foreboding swept over Jack, making him shiver even though the air was warm and muggy. He could not think of what to say. He felt paralysed inside – he knew he had never told Ianto about Steven, not until he had been forced to, and then he recalled hurling the fact at him spitefully. When he had finally told Ianto about his family, it had nothing to do with inviting him deeper into his life, it was all about pushing him away. It had been hurtful and nasty – done to emphasise to Ianto just how little he really did know about Jack Harkness, with the unspoken implication that Ianto did not mean as much to him as he thought he did. In doing so he knew that he broke Ianto’s heart a little, but even that had failed to diminish his loyalty to Jack. Even though Jack had his reasons at the time, wallowing in self-hatred, he had been ashamed of his actions. Things had never been the same between them after that.

“OK then, I take it by the lack of lewd come-backs that there are no petite alien playmates. And I know for a fact that red is not your colour.” Ianto tried to force a smile and failed. He had waited for Jack to say something, anything – and the silence just seemed to confirm his fears.

“Was it Sherlock Holmes or Poirot that said that the most obvious solution is usually the right one?” Ianto asked pleasantly. “There’s a kid, isn’t there? All the time we’ve been together – you had a bloody kid!”

Ianto felt Jack tense up beside him. That was all he needed to prove his theory correct.

“Shit, Owen was right. I’m the bit on the side.” Ianto looked gutted. “The office shag.”

“No! Ianto, you’re not… it’s not like that …it’s complicated –” Jack gripped hold of Ianto tightly by his arms, unable to tell him the truth, yet unwilling to see him denigrate himself any further.

“Not really. You got someone pregnant and they’re bringing up your son, while you’re busy flashing that grin that guarantees you unlimited access to anyone you fancy in Cardiff, men and women and alien lifeforms alike!” Ianto pulled himself free from Jack’s hold and got up from the broken, marble pillar.

“No – Ianto! Trust me, it really is complicated.” Jack stood up quickly and placed his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. “Please listen. You really need to talk to him, back in Cardiff. I don’t know what’s going on – but just call him. Please.”

“I tried – signal too weak.” Ianto gave a disheartened shrug. He wasn’t convinced he wanted to hear the truth. Part of him wondered if Jack was at home right now with his family. No wonder he kept telling Gwen not to let it drift.

Jack unclasped his wrist strap and took hold of Ianto’s mobile phone. He knew it was risky, but he also knew that if this misunderstanding was not sorted out quickly, Ianto would give up on him completely and that was totally unacceptable, he had needed Ianto. All he had to do was boost the power so that the phone would be able to transmit and receive – it was up to his past self and Ianto to deal with the problem itself.

“That should do it. I’m gonna go sit over there.” Jack pointed in the direction of a large cypress tree a few metres away. “I won’t listen in – just promise me not to run off again. Whatever you find out, don’t run off. OK?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay here. Sorry about before. I just needed space …”

“I understand.” Jack pulled Ianto into a hug, kissed him chastely and then moved away to sit down at the base of the tree, not letting Ianto out of his sight for a single second.

From what Ianto had said, it appeared that his past self had asked him to buy a centurion outfit for a kid. Ianto had jumped to the obvious, yet not quite accurate conclusion. It was now up to the Jack in Cardiff, either to make up a story, tell Ianto a twisted version of the truth or to be completely honest with him. The scent of the resin in the bark was strong and filled Jack’s nostrils as he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

So far all of his, and Ianto’s efforts, to avoid changing timelines had apparently been futile – the dizzy spells were symptoms that Jack recognised only too well. The trouble was that if they had caused changes, he was totally unaware of them and that bothered him. Jack could only think that it was his unique status as a fixed point in time that meant he continued to exist with the changes as if events had always played out that way. The fact that the Doctor had yet to appear in the TARDIS, chastising him and confiscating his vortex manipulator, almost suggested to Jack that maybe, just maybe, the alterations were meant to be. He hoped to hell they were.


	19. Chapter 19

Jack was pacing in his office. He had been smashing his head repeatedly against his desk until Owen had hammered on the door and told him to sort out whatever mess he’d made quietly, as even Tosh, who had the patience of a saint, was threatening to come up and shoot him if he did not stop voluntarily.

Taking on board Owen’s veiled threats, he had to admit he was annoyed with himself; he’d got complacent – again.

Earlier that day, Jack had woken up with a smile – after all, he’d been the one to prompt those uninhibited responses from Ianto the previous night, not some random stranger picked up at a bar. Such was his relief that he’d been determined to sort out the paperwork on his desk and clear the decks so that when Ianto returned he would not have to work overtime doing it for him.

Scraps of paper with obscure notes had proved a challenge, but he’d figured out most of the appointments and it was when he’d been transferring dates into his personal organiser that he’d seen on the calendar that it was going to be Steven’s tenth birthday in a week’s time. What with Gwen being out of action, and Ianto overseas, there had been no time for him to go out shopping for a gift. That was why, when Ianto talked about the costume he’d bought for his nephew, Jack had blurted out the most stupid thing he could have let slip.

There were two choices open to him – lie to Ianto, make up a story about a non-existent friend’s child, or tell him the truth and hope he’d understand. To take Ianto into his confidence on that particular issue would signify a change in the nature of their relationship. It was not that Jack did not trust Ianto, far from it, but he just didn’t feel he deserved to have anyone that close to him, someone who would know all about him, from his immortality to his family. The last person he had let in that far had left both him and Torchwood, and even though she had been lucky enough to live long enough to retire, she had also insisted on having their daughter be set up with a new identity. Telling Ianto about Alice and Steven was tantamount to an admission of much more than affection, and that was what was troubling Jack. Despite his thoughts of a monogamous relationship with Ianto, he wondered if he was ready to share his family with him.

The phone on his desk chose that moment to ring, as if signalling that his time was up and that a decision was needed.

“Ianto? Thank goodness. I’ve been trying to call you back-”

_“Sorry – lost the signal. I had to walk some way to get it back.”_

“Listen, about what I said-”

_“Jack. Hear me out first. You know everything about me and I …sometimes I feel I’m barely scratching the surface.”_

“There’s nothing more to –”

_“I know you’re from a century when relationships are different – but I’m not. I can’t go on with this, not if you’ve got other commitments –”_

“What?”

_“A ten-year-old kid, Jack? I take it there is a mother around, isn’t there?”_

“Yes – he lives with her.”

“ _Figured that – what about you? Do you live with them?”_

“I live at the Hub, Ianto – you know that.”

“ _That’s what you say. But come on – that bunker of yours is obviously just somewhere you sleep. So what happened? Divorce? Separation?”_

“What the hell are you on about?”

_“Fine, I’ll spell it out if that’s what you want from me! You’ve got a ten-year-old son, who I know nothing about, let alone the woman who is his mother!”_

“He’s not my son.”

_“What? I don’t get it–”_

“No, Ianto, stop there.” Jack sighed resignedly. His mind was made up. “You’re right. I have been keeping secrets from you. … but he’s not my son, he’s my grandson. His name is Steven.”

_“Your grandson? Fuck.”_

“You’re meant to say I don’t look old enough to be a granddad.”

_“Shit.”_

“Ianto?”

_“So his mother – or father – is your-”_

“Daughter. Yeah.”

_“Bloody hell – so she must be about my age then.”_

Jack could imagine what was going on in Ianto’s mind – that he had been in a relationship with someone who was old enough to be his father. He sighed before admitting the truth.

“No – not really. She’s actually a fair bit older than you.”

Jack had a tin of photographs opened on his desk and in his hand he held a picture of a woman. Melissa had his looks, the dark hair and flashing blue eyes. Jack wished he was having this conversation with Ianto in person, he needed to see how he was taking the news. The silence on the other end of the line was exasperating – he had no idea how Ianto was reacting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto was looking out over the ruins of the Roman Forum, tourists milling around like insects. But he didn’t see them. Jack had a daughter, older than himself, and a grandson. He should have known the man would have sired offspring all over Wales, but it still came as a shock to him. Eventually he found his voice but couldn’t find anything sensible to say.

“Oh, I see.”

Ianto ran a hand through his hair, still struggling to assimilate what he’d been told. The good news was that Jack wasn’t in another relationship, the bad news was that Jack had kept this from him, he’d not trusted him. But, he was telling him now. Why? Because he’d accidentally slipped up? No, Jack could have lied to him if that was all there was to it, fed him some nonsense about a friend’s son, but he’d chosen not to – that had to mean something. Didn’t it? Ianto shook his head as he tried to figure out what Jack was really telling him.

A noise broke through the turmoil inside his head and Ianto turned to see if Jack had overheard anything. He was shocked to see the older man flailing around on the ground. It looked as if he was having a seizure of some sort.

“Shit! I’ve got to go, Jack! I’ll call you back. I promise… and …Jack? Thank you. Thank you.”


	20. Chapter 20

Unlike the Coliseum, whose remaining walls gleamed in the glow of spotlights, there were no lights illuminating their current location, so it had grown dark more quickly there than in the rest of the city. After the sun had set, the pinkish glow warming the scattered clouds faded, allowing the drapes of the indigo night sky to slowly descend providing a deeper back drop against which the bright spark of Venus glinted mischievously through the dense canopy overhead. 

The tears on Ianto’s face had long since dried. But his throat was still sore from screaming at Jack and dry from lack of anything to drink. His stomach rumbled with hunger, although food was the last thing on his mind. Ianto had dragged Jack’s body across to a sheltered copse of trees and bay laurel bushes. He wanted to keep both of them out of sight. He had succeeded in avoiding detection apart from a few stray cats whose curiosity had prompted them to investigate the humans occupying their domain. A scruffy white and tabby tom cat had bravely ventured close enough to nuzzle up against them, hoping for food handouts, but finding the prone body to be no warmer than the surrounding masonry it had not lingered for long.

The sounds of laughter and traffic in the distant streets made Ianto’s heart ache. It made him think of Jack teasing him after the incident with the Smart car-wielding nun. Jack’s head was now heavy on his lap, the lips parted as if taking in a breath, although the chest was still. Ianto tried not to look at the eyes that stared sightlessly at the night sky as he methodically ran his fingers through the hair that was shorter and softer than that of the Jack that belonged in this time. 

Ianto’s phone felt heavy in his pocket – there was an important call he had to make, but it would have to wait. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – do anything until he knew Jack was going to be alright. It wouldn’t do for him to be chatting to one Jack on the phone while another one came gasping back to life in his lap. There had been a text message about an hour ago, asking if he was alright and if everything was alright between them, Ianto had sent off a quick reply reassuring him that everything was fine and that he’d call back later. He’d been robbed of the chance to have a righteously indignant argument with Jack, which was probably a good thing in hindsight. He’d had time to reflect on the fact that, for the first time, Jack had actually given something of himself to Ianto. However, his current concerns lay with making sure he was not discovered cradling a dead body in the middle of the historic district of Rome. 

The night air was growing cooler and a light breeze had dispelled the mugginess. Ianto wished he’d been wearing his jacket – but he’d put it to one side for cleaning, having noticed that Jack had spilled chocolate ice cream on the front of it the previous day when he’d been feeding him from a spoon. The thought brought a lump to his throat, which he found ironic and he barely managed to stifle a sob that was bordering on hysterical. Tomorrow they’d go back and have more ice cream and pizza. They hadn’t had pizza yet, or hired scooters and headed for the coast to picnic amongst the Mediterranean herbs that grew wild over the remains of the ancient port of Ostia. He promised that they’d do that – Jack would like that. Either one of them would have loved that.

This Jack, that had come literally out of the blue, had arrived with so much emotional baggage that it made the Jack back in Cardiff look as if he was travelling with nothing more than a carrier bag with a change of underwear and a toothbrush. Ianto wondered idly if the bags of gifts he’d abandoned when Jack had collapsed had been stolen. It didn’t matter – they’d have to go back to the souvenir shop anyway, he had to get another centurion’s outfit. He took hold of one of Jack’s hands in his and interlinked their fingers… feeling no response, nothing, no warmth, no tension… nothing. 

Ianto thought about what the Jack in Cardiff had told him. It occurred to him that he’d learnt more in the past few days about Jack Harkness than he had in all the time he’d known him beforehand. He was beginning to feel a bit like one of those shiny balls in a pinball table, being violently flipped from one side to the other; future Jack on one side of the table and present-day Jack on the other. Between them they were unfolding secrets, unknowingly filling in the gaps so he was left with a more complete picture than he could have ever hoped to see – one which featured elements of Jack’s past, present and future, as well as strong hints as to his place in Jack’s life. Finding out about Jack’s daughter and grandson had been a shock, but nothing compared to the realisation of the significance of Jack choosing to entrust him with that knowledge. 

An increase in the volume of blaring car horns and police sirens announced yet another accident on the roads beyond the sanctuary in which Ianto waited. He’d always wait. The only time he hadn’t had been when Gwen had insisted on taking vigil herself – guilt had driven her to needing to do penance. Much as he’d hated being pushed out of the way, he’d recognised her need and backed down. At the time he felt as if it was a punishment he’d deserved for allowing Lisa’s ghost to tempt him to betray Jack once more. But since then, he had promised himself that he would always be there for Jack when he died, for as long as he lived. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t you trust him?” moaned Tosh, reluctant to submit to Jack’s request to track down the signal from Ianto’s mobile phone.

“Of course, I do – it’s just that he said he’d call back and he hasn’t. That was hours ago and when we were talking earlier it sounded like there was some kind of emergency when he rang off. Something happened. I just need to know he’s OK.”

“I take it you’ve tried to ring him back?” Tosh spoke slowly, looking at Jack as if he was a child.

“I sent him a text and he replied saying he was alright… he also said he’d call me and I really don’t want to press him. I don’t want him thinking I’m checking up on him.” 

What Jack didn’t want to admit to was being worried sick about how Ianto was reacting to the bombshell he’d dropped. 

“And, before you ask, I called the hotel and he’s not there.”

“Fine – I’ll see if I can trace where he made that call from.” Tosh shook her head in disapproval. 

Owen had already briefed Tosh on the ongoing saga and she had no real desire to spy on Ianto. The only reason she agreed to help Jack was because she was also worried about Ianto. She’d known how excited he’d been at the prospect of going on holiday with Jack and could only imagine how upset he’d been when he found out it was not to be. She guessed that he’d hidden his disappointment from Jack, which only made her angry on his behalf. 

“That’s odd.” Tosh frowned. “I’ve pinpointed the location, but the transmission strength monitor for that area suggests that it’s not strong enough for him to have got through at all.”

“He did say the signal had been weak … so where was he?”

Tosh pointed at an area within the Roman Forum, zooming in on a satellite image showing a clump of trees situated to the south of the main route taken by tourists through the ruins.

“Can you trace anything now?”

“Yes – he’s in the same area.” 

“Damn.” 

Jack didn’t know what to think. He wondered if Ianto had sat there all this time brooding over what he had told him, or if he had been involved in something dangerous. The way he’d rang off suddenly had suggested some kind of emergency. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe it hadn’t been Ianto who’d sent him the text message.

“Are you sure, Tosh?”

“Yes – about ten to twenty metres from where he called you earlier. He’s hardly moved.” Tosh was frowning now. Perhaps Ianto had been injured. “Oh God, what if you’re right, maybe he is hurt.”

Jack paused and then thinking of what he’d told Ianto he reconsidered – maybe Ianto just needed time to assimilate what he’d said. But what if Tosh’s fears were correct – what if he had been hurt?

“Tosh – can you send an anonymous alert to the local police, about a fight or mugging in that area and make sure it’s investigated?”

“I could …” Tosh wasn’t convinced that sending in the police to look for Ianto was the wisest idea. “Why don’t you just call him?”

“Because he needed time to think over something I told him. I don’t want him to think I’m putting pressure on him.”

“Jack?”

“Leave it, Tosh.” Jack gave her the look that made it clear he wasn’t going to be drawn into any further discussion. “If Ianto’s in trouble he’ll need help and if he’s not … well, what harm could it possibly do?” Jack pleaded. 

“OK then. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”


	21. Chapter 21

There was virtually no light, with trees casting dense shadows. The only light came from half-hearted attempts by the moon to break through the thickening clouds – weak moonlight illuminating the remains of the once proud pillars that lay in ruins around them. It was so dark that Ianto did not see the moment that Jack’s eyes blinked. However, he could feel the sudden surge of life as Jack gasped for air and shuddered in his lap.

“It’s OK – I’ve got you.” Ianto spoke softly, hoping to calm Jack and prevent him from panicking. 

Jack blinked rapidly, frantically rubbing his eyes, not understanding why he was unable to see. 

“Ianto? Where are you?” Unable to clear his vision, Jack then flung his arms around grabbing for Ianto, who responded quickly, holding onto him carefully.

“I’m here. Don’t panic. It’s dark now. You’ve been out of it for a while now.”

“Damn – how long?”

“Hang on – let me check.” Ianto pulled his phone from his pocket to see what the time was, before setting it to one side on top of a tree root that had been sticking in his thigh. “Three hours and forty-three minutes.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You had a fit – a really bad one. You were convulsing. I’m sorry … I couldn’t do anything … I … you were shaking … and then…”

Jack could tell from the hoarseness in Ianto’s voice that the events he had no memory of whatsoever had caused his companion a great deal of distress. 

“Shit – what the hell’s going on?” 

Jack scrambled to his knees so he could lean across Ianto to give him a hug and a kiss. He could only imagine what had been going through Ianto’s mind whilst he had been sitting there waiting for him to revive. 

“You tell me. You scared the shit out of me.” Ianto’s voice was trembling with a combination of anger and fear. “My guess is that it’s got something to do with your dizzy spells and the conversation we had after I’d retconned myself. Am I close?”

“I think you’re right.” Jack nodded his head. It was obvious there was no way he was going to convince Ianto that it was nothing to worry about any longer. “Damn. Something we’re doing is changing timelines.” 

Jack recalled having discussed with Ianto how changes to the timeline could be affecting his past and Ianto’s future, and that the alterations were manifesting themselves as disturbances in the vortex that flowed through every cell of his body. However, he also remembered that Ianto had retconned that conversation from his mind – ironically to prevent the very changes that were happening regardless. The trouble was that he was unaware of what had actually been changed, as the altered timelines were apparently overwriting his past in such a way that he could not distinguish any discrepancies. Jack sighed as he lay down on the ground and turned to look at Ianto, who had been very quiet, lost in his own thoughts. 

“Do you think it’s because you told me about your daughter and grandson?” Ianto’s voice was a mere whisper, almost as if he was afraid to put those thoughts into words. 

“I can’t see any reason why that would make a difference.” 

Jack shook his head, dismissing the notion instantly. He had never regretted telling Ianto about Alice and Steven. Although his daughter had been furious when she had first discovered that Ianto was much younger than she was, Steven had grown to adore him and that had been enough to win him over in Alice’s eyes. Ianto had been like a big brother to Steven, taking him to rugby matches, supervising his eighteenth birthday party and even his stag night when that eventually came around. Jack had been so proud of him – he had taken his grandson under his wing and had been a far better role model for the boy than either his biological father or grandfather would have been. He suspected that Ianto’s influence had stopped him from becoming a prissy, spoilt brat and he would never stop being grateful for that. He could barely remember a time when Ianto had not known about his daughter and grandson.

“Must have been something else then.” 

Ianto lay down next to Jack and took his hand. It did not take long for the older man to take up the unspoken invitation and roll over on top of him, crushing the leaves of the fragrant laurel bushes. Feeling the weight of the Jack, alive and moving against him, dispelled the anxiety Ianto had been experiencing earlier. He had no idea how many times this Jack had died and there was always the fear that he would eventually use up all of the lives he had been granted. 

Jack smiled, remembering just how Ianto liked him to prove he was fully recovered and, even though he could barely see a thing in the dark, he sought out Ianto’s mouth and captured his lips in a deep kiss. Feeling Ianto’s hands roam his body, sliding under his shirt seeking bare flesh, Jack quickly started to divest the younger man of his clothes – hands scrabbling for buttons and zips. Ianto reciprocated, tucking his hands down the back of the loose chinos, firmly grasping Jack’s buttocks so he could pull their hips together, relishing the sensation of their erections pressing against each other through the fabric. 

Breaking their kiss momentarily, to take a breath, Ianto heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps on gravel coming closer and quickly took his hands out of Jack’s pants and grabbed hold of his arms stopping him from removing the shirt that he had just managed to unbutton.

“Shhh…” 

“Polizia! So che siete lì dentro - venite fuori subito!” A gruff voice called out from a few feet away. “Lentamente e con le mani alzate!”

“Shit. It’s the police… what are we going to do?” whispered Ianto, panicking at the thought of being caught in a compromising situation by the Italian police. 

Jack grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand and held it against his arm as he flipped open his wrist strap and hurriedly pressed a few buttons on his Vortex Manipulator. 

“Polizia! Venite fuori subito!” The policeman demanded they come out of the bushes once more. He began to nervously wave his Beretta semi-automatic pistol at the moving branches. 

The undergrowth appeared to catch fire as a bright flare of light shone for an instant, temporarily blinding the policeman. There were enough tales of the area being haunted to convince him that he did not want to stick around any longer. Making the sign of the cross hastily, he muttered a quick prayer and then made as dignified an exit as possible. 

Once he got back to his black BMW motorcycle, emblazoned with the Carabinieri insignia, the officer felt foolish for having run away from a rustling shrub and decided that no one need ever know what he saw. He reported in that there was no sign of anyone being attacked or mugged and that he suspected it had all been a hoax.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay - being in charge of some A level exams makes life busy at this time of year.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto pushed Jack away from him, rolled over to one side and retched noisily. His throat hurt as there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. He was aware of Jack sitting behind him, gently rubbing his back in an effort to calm him.

“You OK?”

“Not really,” spluttered Ianto, before allowing himself to lean back into Jack’s arms. “What the hell have you done now?”

“Avoided getting arrested for indecent behaviour – always a good move.” Jack waved the arm bearing the Vortex manipulator in front of Ianto’s face.

“So you teleported us out of there?” Ianto frowned. “Where are we?”

“Same place – no time to set safe co-ordinates for that. Could’ve ended up in the middle of the road.”

“OK … so we’re in the same place, but a different time?” Ianto turned his head to look Jack in the eye.

“Exactly - instead of moving us spatially, I moved us temporally,” explained Jack.

“OK.” Ianto looked around and noted that the marble columns were no longer crumbling, but intact and pristine. “How far back?”

“Not sure – couldn’t see exactly what I was doing” Jack winced as he saw the horror in Ianto’s face.

“What?!”

“It’s ok, we’re at the same place. All we have to do is make sure we return a few hours after we left and the coast should be clear.”

“The sooner the better – it’s bloody freezing.” Ianto quickly buttoned up his shirt, shivering as a cool breeze reminded him that his chest was exposed to the elements. “Must be winter.”

“Aren’t you curious about when we are? Beyond the season of the year?” Jack bit his lip nervously having checked his wrist strap and seen that, in his haste, he had selected centuries rather than hours as the time interval.

“No – not really and there are things I need to get back to do.”

Ianto knew that he had to talk to Jack in Cardiff soon or he’d be panicking, again. It had been hours since he’d last been in touch with him and there were things that needed to be discussed. Although he’d been distracted by the warmth of Jack’s needy body, any arousal had long since dissipated having been scared off by an angry sounding Italian policeman, a nausea-inducing trip through time and finally a damp, cold landing somewhere in the past.

Whilst watching Ianto come to terms with the fact the fact that he was in another time, Jack gathered his companion closer to his side, trying to protect him from the weather. A fierce gust of wind brought driving rain into their faces. A memory of a long coat came to mind. That would have been perfect.

“Great. It’s raining now as well.”

“Sorry.” Jack shrugged. “It’s not like I can check out the weather.”

“What’s that noise?”

“Rain?”

“No – sounds more like metal on stone. Tapping …clattering…”

Jack strained to hear what it was that was bothering Ianto and then it dawned on him.

“Oh.”

“Oh what?”

“Hobnailed sandals … you know-”

“Are we talking hobnailed sandals, favoured footwear of the Roman army?”

“Could be.” Jack tried and failed to suppress a smile. He’d always had a penchant for Ancient Rome, the decadent lifestyle and hedonism appealed to his baser instincts, and despite all he’d lived through he still remembered the visceral pleasures of grappling with sweaty leather armour.

“Jack!” Ianto yelled, disturbed by the look on Jack’s face – the rapturous appearance of someone reliving pleasant memories.

Ianto grabbed hold of Jack’s shoulder and shook him hard in an effort to bring him to full awareness of their situation. He had appeared to drift off for a while and Ianto feared he was still suffering the after-effects of the seizure which had stopped his heart not so long ago.

“What?”

“Are those centurions? Down there!” Ianto hissed, part excited, part terrified.

Through the trees they were able to make out glimpses of red garments and the crested helmets of Roman soldiers, marching in a tight formation along the flagstones that lined the roadway. The tips of spears glinted ominously as they passed.

“Oh yeah.” Jack couldn’t help grinning.

“What will they do if they find us?” Ianto spoke slowly, hoping to get through to Jack.

“That all depends. Last time-”

“Shit – of course, you’ve been here before.” Ianto could imagine only too well what sort of impression Jack could have made in the past. “That means we’re really in trouble. If only I’d brushed up on my Latin…”

“Not necessarily. Well, yeah, possibly. Chances are they wouldn’t kill us straight away.”

Jack realised that what had fascinated and titillated him about Rome when he’d travelled solo, was giving him serious cause for concern having Ianto as a fellow traveller.

“That’s not especially reassuring – so what? They’d capture us and force us into slavery?”

“Two fine specimens like us?” Jack feigned outrage. “No way! We’d end up in the arena, fighting gladiators.” He kept quiet about the other occupations that they could be employed in.

“Being killed. Horribly and violently. By gladiators – armed to their teeth and drenched in testosterone. Might be turn on for you but does nothing for me.” Ianto shuddered. “That does it. Take me back to the twenty-first century. Now please.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well?”

Jack pushed the untouched cup of coffee away from him. He’d been sitting at his desk waiting for news, having been told, in no uncertain terms, by Tosh that he was acting in an intimidating way and that she’d go home and leave him to it if he didn’t back off and give her space to work.

“Nothing – they had someone check out the area and they found nothing.”

“Damn. What about the phone signal you picked up?”

“Still there – perhaps Ianto dropped his phone?”

Jack glared at Tosh. None of the circumstances he could think of, that would result in Ianto losing his phone in the middle of a deserted area amongst the ruins of Ancient Rome, were in the least bit comforting. Especially considering the fact that he’d just decided to take him into his confidence regarding his family.

Not wanting Jack to become any more agitated than he was, Tosh suggested that he should give Ianto until morning and then call him at the hotel.

“And whatever you do – don’t tell him you’ve been tracking down his phone. At least give him the impression you respect his right to privacy.”

Tosh didn’t wait for Jack to reply, she just turned smartly on her heel and left him to his brooding. She had other matters to worry about. If Jack knew what she knew he’d probably be on the next plane to Rome.

Whilst tapping into the communications of the Carabinieri, Tosh had detected a strange energy surge just six minutes before the policeman attending the scene reported in that the alert was a hoax call. Analysis of the energy signature brought up a match that worried Tosh. It corresponded very closely to the type of signal that John Hart’s wrist device had emitted. The possibility – however vague – that he had abducted Ianto gave her serious cause for concern. If he had, there would be nothing they could do about it. Jack would go ballistic, probably threaten to tear John Hart apart, but he’d be as helpless as the rest of them.

Tosh bit her lip, pushed her glasses up her nose a little and peered at her monitor. She’d keep vigil and do all she could to track Ianto down. She’d give it until morning, if she’d not located him by then, that’s when she’d tell Jack about her suspicions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was early morning when Ianto and Jack reappeared in exactly the same place as they’d disappeared from. The sun was low in the sky and the sounds of traffic were muted, the city just waking up. As they were now standing up instead of lying down, they both managed to hit their heads on overhanging branches.

“Ouch!” yelled Ianto, rubbing his forehead. He swallowed hard, fighting the nausea he could feel rising in his throat.

“You OK there?” Jack held on to the hand that he’d clasped to his wrist, not wanting to let go of Ianto.

Ianto nodded and then began to search his pockets. As he did so he took in the fact that it was daylight.

“Shit, it’s morning. It had better just be the next day and not next week.” Ianto glared at Jack. “Shit, where’s my bloody phone. Oh fuck – what if I left it back in Imperial Rome? Imagine what could happen. It might end up like that Star Trek episode … Bread and Circuses, that was it …”

“Are you feeling alright?” Jack took hold of Ianto by the arms and stilled him. “You’re babbling – more than usual. I haven’t a clue what you’re going on about.”

“Are you saying I babble?” Ianto scowled. “My phone – I need to find it.”

“Hang on – let me.”

Jack used his wrist strap to send a signal to Ianto’s mobile phone which began to ring.

“Thank god for that.” Ianto found the phone exactly where he’d left it, resting on a gnarled tree root.

Picking it up he noted that there was one new text message, not from Jack, but from Tosh. Worried that something might have happened back in Cardiff, he quickly opened the message:

_“Where the hell have you been? Jack’s worried sick. Call him.”_

That threw him. Tosh never told him off when it came to matters between him and Jack. She always took his side. Something was badly amiss.

“Problem?” Jack asked.

“Not sure – hang on while I call Tosh.”

“Tosh?” Jack smiled sadly. He wished he could see her again.

“Shhh – try to keep quiet while I call her.” Ianto put a finger to Jack’s lips as he called Tosh back. “Hey there, Tosh –what’s going on?”

Ianto then held the phone at arm’s length as Tosh yelled out excitedly. He rolled his eyes and then brought the phone nearer to his ear as she quietened down. However, her next words startled him.

“Hart? Why the hell would you think I’d gone off with him?” Ianto shook his head in confusion. “Energy? What energy? I didn’t … no, Tosh I wouldn’t dream of questioning you on … right here you say? I … please Tosh, OK, OK … I give in … but it’s important you don’t say a word about this to Jack … please, I’m begging you … no, I’m not! I’d never … I’ll call him later on – I promise. It’s complicated … trust me, Tosh, I can’t say anything … just … I’m fine, really. Alright, I owe you … size 38? Got it … you’ll send me the specs …yes… I promise. See you soon. Bye Tosh.”

Ianto ended the call, tucked the phone into the back pocket of his jeans and then sank to the ground, head in hands.

“Well?” Jack asked solicitously as he crouched down next to Ianto, placing a hand on his shoulder in support.

“We’re going shoe shopping later.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask.” Ianto shook his head wearily and pointed in the direction of the road. “Let’s get a taxi. I’m cold, soaking wet, starving hungry, thirsty and tired. I need coffee, a hot shower, food and a bed – not necessarily in that order.”


	23. Chapter 23

Although the balcony to their room was quite narrow, there was room on it for a small wrought iron table and two patio chairs. Ianto sat on one chair with his feet up on the other, wrapped up in a large, fluffy bath robe. It was early and the sun had yet to rise high enough in the sky to reach their floor of the hotel, making it quite chilly outside. Although the restaurant on the top floor was probably basking in the early morning sun, Ianto had ordered room service, his need for privacy and time to gather his thoughts overriding his stomach’s demands for a full breakfast. On the table in front of him was an empty coffee pot, cup and saucer, along with a plate holding nothing but flaky crumbs from the pastries he’d hastily eaten.

As soon as they’d got back to their room Ianto ran through what he was going to say to Jack in Cardiff, keeping as close to the truth as possible. He’d been reassured by the Jack from the future that it sounded perfectly feasible. Ianto had pushed him, demanding to know that what he was going to say to his Jack wasn’t risking timelines – in the heat of the moment, Ianto had made reference to the fact that even if he probably wasn’t going to live long enough to find out, he’d be pissed off he anything he said screwed up other people’s futures. Jack had grabbed hold of him, digging his fingers into his biceps as he asked what the hell Ianto was going on about. Ianto had pushed him away forcefully before reiterating the implication that Jack had made when he’d first turned up at the hotel – that Ianto wasn’t going to be around long enough to make a return trip to Rome. Jack had vehemently denied saying any such thing but refused point blank to give his reasons for being so certain he hadn’t said anything along those lines. That’s why Ianto had showered alone and retreated to the balcony to eat his breakfast, shutting the door behind him to make it clear he didn’t want to be disturbed

Ianto felt he had a right to be furious, his memory did not let him down and he knew exactly what Jack had implied that first night, and now he was protesting that he’d never meant that. Either Jack had lied to him at the start, or he was lying to him now, perhaps trying to spare him from worrying about an imminent death, or, more likely, making sure he did nothing to change the course of history by dodging the proverbial bullet having been made aware of the gun. Then there were the dizzy spells and fits, which were getting progressively worse. Ianto laughed humourlessly – the last one had killed Jack, how could it get worse?

Despite the clear skies and wonderful view over the city, Ianto was feeling miserable, he was beginning to feel remorseful about how he’d been treating Jack – both of them really, but especially the one sitting on the bed flicking through the channels on the TV. Sighing to himself, Ianto resolved to tackle one Jack at a time.

Ianto’s attention shifted to the small piece of technology that sat innocuously in the centre of the table. Freshly recharged whilst he’d been in the shower, it sat there totally oblivious to the trouble it had caused. Ianto swore under his breath – it seemed that their fanciful plan of ‘having a holiday like normal people’ was doomed to failure. He considered that perhaps it was karma for cheating on one Jack with another Jack, with one of them knowing everything about his future and the other ignorant of what he was getting up to in the present. His bloody mobile phone was the technological equivalent of the Scooby gang while he was the masked villain, it kept foiling him at every turn. Whether it was switched on or off it was out to screw him over – what with its smug flashing lights and ‘I told you so’ sound it made whenever a voicemail or text message came in.

He reached across the table and picked up the phone, trying his best not to imbue it with a diabolical personality. It was not sentient, it was not alien. It was a bloody Samsung – surely they weren’t… but then again... no, not now, although he’d get Tosh to investigate that possibility when he next saw her.

“Jack? Yeah – I’m fine. Really… I swear. Jack? About yesterday? I’m sorry.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack sighed as he set the phone back in its cradle. Rubbing his face he went over his conversation with Ianto. Of course he’d rushed to help the guy having a seizure – that’s the sort of thing his Ianto would do and then wait with him until he came around, however long it took. He’d been reassured that, when he’d asked Ianto what the guy had been like, he’d chuckled and said ‘much, much older than you’. In his rush to give assistance Ianto had dropped his phone and hadn’t been able to go back to find it until morning and then he’d needed to recharge it. That tallied with the report he’d got from Tosh, the one he’d make sure Ianto never got to find out about – he’d bribe Tosh if he had to.

Ianto had gone on to explain that after Jack’s revelation about his family, he’d needed time to get his head around the whole idea. Hearing Ianto quietly, hesitantly state that he was honoured that Jack had chosen to take him into his confidence regarding such a personal issue, had given Jack a warm feeling inside. It wouldn’t have surprised Jack if Ianto had been angry and upset – he knew for a fact that Gwen would have reacted like that, she would have either punched or slapped him and then yelled at him. Jack smiled, he had a soft spot for Gwen, but she always assumed that he owed it to her to tell her everything, unaware of how much she was abusing his affection for her; whereas Ianto rarely asked, let alone demanded, answers and despite being disappointed by Jack’s evasion of the truth, never protested, even though the hurt showed in his eyes.

So touched had Jack been by Ianto’s reaction that he’d asked him if he’d like to meet Alice and Steven sometime and had been delighted to hear the barely perceptible gasp before Ianto stuttered that he’d love to. Any fears that Jack had been harbouring concerning a negative reaction were cast aside and he was already making plans in his head.

At the back of Jack’s mind lurked the unwelcome, but realistic, thought that if anything was to take him away from Earth, he could now rely on Ianto to watch out for his daughter and grandson. He brushed away a treacherous tear from the corner of his eye as his conscience taunted him with the reality, that if the Doctor needed him again, he would desert both lover and family just as he had before. Although he could argue with himself that if it came to that, chances were that it would be necessary in order to protect them, he couldn’t deny that the Doctor owned a large part of his heart and that if he called, Jack would follow, leaving behind people who loved him. He hoped they would understand, doubted they would, but felt comforted that at least they would have each other.

Reaching out to touch the phone, subconsciously associating it with the only contact he had currently had with Ianto, Jack smiled as he recalled the way Ianto’s voice had stuttered nervously as he’d said goodbye to Jack, quietly adding that he was missing him.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-posted as I left out the final line when first posted!

“I’m sorry.”

Ianto stood inside the open door to the balcony, his arms wrapped around him defensively, holding the bath robe closed, trying to keep warm. He couldn’t help shivering and was feeling unaccountably nervous.

“What for?” Jack asked, switching off the TV and setting aside the remote control. He patted the empty side of the bed, inviting Ianto to join him.

Ianto sat down on the edge of the bed and shrugged.

“I’ve been spoiling this for you. Wanting answers you can’t give. Blaming you for things you’ve got no control over. I just wanted to give you some good memories and instead it’s all turning into an unmitigated disaster.”

“Not from where I’m sitting.” Jack smiled as he reached out to take hold of Ianto’s hand. “There’s a gorgeous man on my bed – and I reckon he’s wearing nothing under that bath robe.”

Ianto frowned as he realised that Jack was wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist. Apparently he’d not bothered getting dressed after having a shower.

“The bath robe’s staying on – I think I’ve caught a chill from being soaked to the skin with ancient rain. Aren’t you cold?”

“Get in bed with me and I’ll soon warm you up.” Jack tossed the towel to one side and quickly slid beneath the quilt.

“I’ve heard that one before – several times in fact.” Ianto rolled his eyes, barely suppressing a smile at Jack’s predictability.

“Yeah – but you are cold. You can’t deny that I’ve got a hot body, can you?” Jack threw back the bedcovers next to him and gave Ianto his best ‘come hither’ look.

Ianto shook his head slightly as he surrendered and then crawled under the covers. Lying on his side, facing Jack, he could feel the heat emanating from his smooth chest and he had to admit to himself that it did feel good snuggling up in the warmth.

“Hey – you’re freezing.” Jack had hooked one of his legs around Ianto’s and tugged him forward, and as he rubbed their feet together he was shocked at how cold Ianto’s feet were. “We really need to get you out of that robe.”

“Why?” Ianto narrowed his eyes at Jack.

“Skin on skin is the best way to warm up cold flesh.”

“So they say – but the way you’re putting it, makes me sound like a piece of fish.”

“Never – not with all this fur on your chest-” Jack pulled open the top of the robe so he could run his fingertips through Ianto’s soft chest hair as if stroking a pet.

“It’s not fur,” protested Ianto indignantly, batting Jack’s hand away.

Jack tugged on the towelling belt of the bath robe, loosening it until it gave way allowing the robe to gape open, allowing him to slide his arms inside.

“Come here.” Jack drew Ianto closer. “That’s better.”

Ianto couldn’t help but notice that Jack seemed to be much more like his old self, more assertive, taking charge and no longer handling him as if he was fragile. He wondered how on earth such a difference had been wrought over the course of only a few days. Any further rumination was put paid to as Jack gently pushed him onto his back, pressing him flat against the mattress. Jack straddled Ianto’s hips and ran his hands up and down his torso, making small circular motions to warm him up.

“You’ve been thinking way too much, Ianto. You’re tense as hell.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Ianto mumbled as he reached out to place his hands on Jack’s hips, attempting to anchor himself physically.

“Yeah, well, let me take your mind off that for a while.” Jack leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Ianto’s brow. “Please.”

“I don’t know-”

Ianto was feeling torn. A mere few days ago and this Jack had seemed so alone and so much in need of comfort that Ianto could have refused him nothing. But since he’d woken up, something felt different – he was uneasy. For the first time, he really did feel, in his gut, that he was actually cheating on ‘his’ Jack. That man, back in Cardiff, had finally chosen to confide in Ianto – let him in on a secret that he’d kept close to his heart. How could Ianto reconcile that with having sex with this man from the future?

“You’re thinking that this constitutes a betrayal – aren’t you?” Jack spotted the hint of guilt in Ianto’s eyes.

“Yeah,” admitted Ianto, sighing heavily.

Jack put his hands down on the pillow either side of Ianto’s head and then lowered his body until he was fully in contact with Ianto, before gently kissing him on the mouth.

“I think that makes me love you even more.” Jack whispered in Ianto’s ear as he rolled over to one side, keeping one arm draped possessively across Ianto’s abdomen.

“I’m just feeling confused.” Ianto shut his eyes and let out yet another long sigh.

“I know you are. It’s to be expected, you’re trying to conduct two relationships at the same time with the same person, at different points in their timeline, whilst keeping one of them in the dark.”

Jack knew exactly what that was like, having recently bumped into the Doctor in his ninth incarnation, moodily seductive in his black leather jacket, a darkness in his soul making him seek out the ‘wrongness’ in Jack rather than rejecting it. There had ensued a drunken encounter which they’d agreed was best never mentioned again by either party. No wonder that Doctor warned Rose off him when Jack had met them for what he thought was the first time all those years ago.

“You’re not just talking about me, are you?” Ianto was spying on Jack from under his lashes and had caught the expression on Jack’s face – it was the one he wore when his mind was revisiting past memories.

“You always were too perceptive for your own good.” Jack propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over Ianto once more, running a hand across his chest, tracing a line downwards until his fingertips lingered just beneath his navel, teasing at the line of hair. “For what it’s worth, I know that the man back in Wales would forgive you if you were able to tell him what was going on.”

“Really? Yeah, well I guess those fifty-first century morals are a lot more relaxed about this kind of thing and it’s not like I’ve gone on the pull and ended up in bed with some random stranger … now that would be cheating.”

Ianto chewed lightly on his lower lip, frowning slightly as he gazed past Jack’s shoulder, oblivious to the way the older man’s pupils were dilating as he drank in the sight.

Jack was exercising as much restraint as he could, lying next to Ianto’s naked body, watching as he wrinkled up his nose as he tried to rationalise a totally irrational situation. He’d had time to consider just how difficult this was for the young man to deal with and wanted to give him time to make his own decisions, based on what he wanted to do, rather than what he thought Jack wanted from him.

“Trust me - I’m the same man, but if this makes you uncomfortable, I’ll respect your wishes.” Jack pulled away slightly, awkwardly aware of the fact that his rock-hard cock, thumping against Ianto’s thigh, was contradicting the message he was trying to convey.

“Thank you … it’s just …” Ianto reached out to loop an arm around Jack’s neck, pulling him down until their lips met. Mouths opened willingly to grant access to tongues and it didn’t take long before they were pressed close together, from lip to hip.

Ianto’s conscience may have been having second thoughts, but his body was firmly overriding any qualms as he found himself writhing beneath Jack, responding eagerly to every kiss and every touch. He reciprocated eagerly, reaching around to grab hold of Jack’s arse, sliding one leg between his thighs and pulling him close.

Jack’s talented tongue, lips and fingers gradually eased every ounce of tension from Ianto, before building him up slowly to an exquisitely intense release. The sensation of Jack’s large hand squeezing both of their cocks together, feeling the hard flesh of Jack’s erection pressing up against his own, shuddering as they came within seconds of one another was almost too much to bear. Any sound he made as he came was swallowed up as Jack captured his mouth in the type of passionate kiss that made him feel as if his very breath was being stolen from his chest. Gasping for air, Ianto reluctantly broke away briefly before being pulled over, onto Jack’s chest and held tight. They lay there, panting gently as their breathing returned to normal, ignoring the stickiness that lay between them until Jack grabbed hold of the corner of the towelling bath robe to wipe them both clean.

“Should I be sorry?” Jack sounded almost repentant. He’d not exactly given Ianto much opportunity to change his mind.

“No.” Ianto pressed a kiss to Jack’s sweaty chest and let his eyes close. “I’m not.”


	25. Chapter 25

Drifting awake in Jack’s arms had been a pleasant experience, spoilt slightly by the rumbling of his stomach.

“Hungry?” asked Jack.

“Ravenous,” replied Ianto, pressing a hand against his abdomen in a futile attempt to put a halt to the loud gurgling sounds.

Despite their reluctance to extricate themselves from the cocoon of soft white sheets, it was agreed that an early dinner of pasta followed by a walk along the river would be pleasant way to spend the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to set as they walked along the banks of the river Tiber heading in the direction of the Castel Sant’Angelo. Jack had spent the last half hour trying to persuade Ianto to join him in exploring the inside of the castle after closing time using his wrist strap, but Ianto wasn’t convinced that Jack was capable of restricting himself to using the teleport function.

“Can you really guarantee it would be safe? Knowing our luck, we’d end up being thrown to the lions or burnt at the stake as heretics.”

“Whatever happened to your sense of adventure?”

“Do I have to remind you that only one of us wouldn’t stay dead?”

“Ouch.”

Jack came to a halt, the ugly truth of Ianto’s throwaway line hitting him in the gut, causing his face to crumple.

“Don’t you dare start sulking – come on, let’s keep walking.” Ianto crooked his elbow, inviting Jack to walk arm-in-arm.

Jack frowned, wondering if the young Welshman on his arm had forgotten that his Ianto was long dead. However, he could sense by the way that Ianto walked extra close and held on tightly that he could tell what was on Jack’s mind.

They walked on in silence as they took the turning onto the Ponte Sant’Angelo. Streetlights were reflecting in the waters of the River Tiber that rippled lazily as a light breeze ruffled the surface.

“So, I can’t tempt you – not even a little jaunt?” Jack nudged Ianto in the ribs as they drew closer to the spiral ramp leading to the entrance.

“I’m not re-enacting Tosca for anyone, not even you.” Ianto rolled his eyes as he caught the mischievous grin on Jack’s face.

“Tosca? Never took you for an opera buff. Remind me what happened in that one.”

“Tosca is the heroine - she finds her lover’s body here, despite being promised that the execution was going to be faked and then she throws herself off the ramparts to her death.”

“But you’d know I’d come back – I always do.”

Jack shrugged as they both looked up at the imposing statue of the archangel Michael atop the castle, the sword held poised to strike glinting in the light of the setting sun.

“I never trust that– not until I hear you take that first breath,” admitted Ianto quietly.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But now you know that it’s true – still here after all.” Jack reasoned that his presence should reassure Ianto that he wasn’t going to die for good, at least not in Ianto’s lifetime.

“Still doesn’t mean it won’t happen one day, does it?” Ianto pointed out.

Not wanting to explore that avenue of discussion further, Ianto freed his arm from Jack’s so that he could take his camera from his pocket to capture the silhouette of the castle against the darkening sky.

“I’m hoping it does,” whispered Jack. “But not today.”

“What’s that?” Ianto asked, having heard Jack mumbling under his breath.

“Nothing.”

Jack shook his head and took a deep breath. He hadn’t wanted to bother Ianto earlier with his worries and misgivings. He’d put it off at the hotel with Ianto snuggled up close to him under the duvet, not wanting to break the spell, and then, when they’d woken up, food had been a priority. There was no way he could discuss what was on his mind in the crowded trattoria. But he had ran out of excuses not to share his thoughts with Ianto – he deserved the truth.

“Jack – what is it? You look like you’re chewing a wasp. Spit it out. Not literally – well not unless it’s a real wasp.”

Chuckling to himself, Jack took hold of Ianto’s hand and tugged him across the cobblestones towards the parapet of the bridge; eventually coming to a halt beneath one of Bernini’s imposing statues of angels that stood guard over the bridge. It was time he came clean and told Ianto what those dizzy spells and the seizure signified, that it was too late, timelines had been changed. He’d been trying to convince himself that there was something else at work; after all, apart from suffering the symptoms of a disrupted vortex deep within his body, he’d not been aware of any drastic changes. But then again he wouldn’t, would he? Any changes wouldn’t manifest themselves yet – they’d occur because of something he’d changed in either Ianto’s or his own future – possibly even both of their futures.

“Ianto – what we argued about earlier-”

“I said I was sorry – can’t we just let it drop?” Ianto interrupted, not wanting to spoil what had been a pleasant evening by dragging up the row they’d had when they’d got back to their hotel room earlier in the day. “I understand that you can’t say anything-”

“You said that I’d implied that you…” Jack swallowed hard and then took a deep breath, thinking of a way of avoiding saying out loud the thought he’d rather never consider. “Put it this way – you were under the impression that I’d basically said, in not so many words, that you don’t live long enough to climb the promotional ladder at Torchwood. Is that right?”

“Yes.” Ianto huffed, he really didn’t want to re-visit that argument. “But-”

“No buts.” Jack pinned Ianto to the wall behind him, making it clear that he was not going to back down. “Tell me one thing though – you have an excellent memory, don’t you? Never usually lets you down?”

“Yeah … what are you getting at?”

Ianto narrowed his eyes and tried to work out what was going on in Jack’s head. He was skirting around something important and Ianto knew from experience that he had to be patient and wait for Jack to get to the point.

“It’s just that … it’s not that I remember differently, it’s that the more I think about it the more difficult it is to square having said something like that knowing what I do know.” Jack ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to grab a handful and pull at it. “It’s like I’m literally in two minds. I can replay the scene in my head where I said something that would have led you to believe that … you know … but I can’t understand why I would have said it.”

“That’s bad isn’t it?” Ianto frowned. If Jack was beginning to experience some sort of multiple-memory syndrome it couldn’t be a good thing.

“Yeah. Seems like it’s too late to avoid doing anything to change timelines – it’s done. By interacting with you I’ve already changed my past and your future.”

“Shit.” Ianto shut his eyes tight and bit his lip hard. “It’s all my fault isn’t it?”

“No – I should have known better. I should’ve resisted you, dammit.” Jack placed his hands firmly on Ianto’s shoulders and gave him a doleful look. “I guess I could blame you for being so damn irresistible.”

“Not helping.” Ianto opened his eyes and smiled fondly at Jack. “So, what can we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do now, not without risking making things worse.” Jack shook his head slowly. “The trouble is that whatever is going to happen, already has happened for me, so my memories have been overwritten. It’s like I’ve got different recollections of the same events multiplying in my mind, each being replaced by a more dominant version.”

“If it was really bad though, wouldn’t he - the Doctor- have turned up by now?”

“I don’t know – maybe he still does? Maybe he already has.”

“The night I retconned myself - do you still remember what we talked about?”

“You know I can’t discuss that with you –”

“Yes, I know that, but can you remember any of it? I assume we discussed the whole time-bending dilemma – what do you remember about that?”

“Let me think …”

Jack shut his eyes as he tried to recall that late-night conversation. Apart from an overwhelming sense of sadness, he could recall no details, it was vague, as if shrouded in a thick, impenetrable mist.

Then through the murkiness of his memories came a fragment of speech, quietly spoken, as if with the last exhalation of breath. It wasn’t directly from their discussion but linked to it somehow. The voice was unmistakably Ianto’s:

**_“Don’t forget me… in a thousand years… you won’t remember…”_ **

Jack bent double, clutching his chest as a stabbing pain wracked his body. He could feel Ianto’s strong hands grasp him around the biceps spinning him around so that he was propped up against the parapets of the bridge.

“Hush. It’s OK – let it go. You don’t need to think about this – come on.”

“Ianto?” Jack sounded uncertain. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere – well not just yet. Hey, what’s wrong?” Ianto cupped Jack’s chin in one hand to get a good look at his face. “You’re white as a sheet – that’s stealing my look. You get tanned and dashing, I get pale and enigmatic – it’s the rule.”

“I’ll take your word on that.” Jack smiled half-heartedly, wondering which set of memories bubbling to the fore of his brain were the true ones, as it dawned on him that he’d lived through all of them.

Jack was aware of the stonework of the bridge digging into his back and Ianto’s arms on either side of him, holding him firmly in place. Ianto had that look in his face that meant he wasn’t going to be easily fobbed off.

“What the hell’s going on, Jack? You said that my future has been changed – so what’s that done to your memories of what happened in your past?”

“I don’t know – it’s odd, there are these weird fragments floating around that don’t make sense, they’re out of context. Scenes that don’t make sense, others that seem like nightmares come back to visit me. Damn.”

Jack was frustrated. It was as if he was in possession of at least two sets of memories that ran parallel to one another – but just for a set time period – the time he was on Earth during the early twenty-first century until he hitched a lift to get away. After that they merged back to form one single timeline once more – different events having all led to the same inexorable need to leave the planet. Whichever path was the true one resulted in the same awful outcome – people died because of him, Torchwood was destroyed, he’d lost Ianto and been forced to make sacrifices that no man should be expected to make and then he’d ran away. The Doctor had turned his back on him once more and everything eventually led to that point in time where he decided to come out of the shadows to be with Ianto again, briefly, before letting him go forever.

Ianto could see that Jack was crying, silent tears tracking across the paler than normal cheeks, before coalescing as they ran along his jaw to his chin.

“That bad?” Ianto leaned forward to capture an errant tear with the tip of his tongue and then gently kissed the others away from the side of Jack’s nose to his lips. His touches so light they almost tickled, making Jack smile sadly.

“Yeah – trust me, Ianto. It’s never going to be easy letting you go.”

There was nothing Ianto could say to that, so he just leaned forward until their foreheads met. It occurred to him that it was up to him to lighten the mood.

“How about we go sightseeing like you suggested. But no time jumps – Tosh picked up the last one and only agreed not to pursue it further if I bought her a ridiculously expensive pair of boots with heels that should come with a health warning. I’ve no idea how I’m going to explain that one to her, and I bet she’ll have all her systems tuned in to detect anything similar in the city for the rest of the week. Do you think she’ll believe me if … I’m rambling aren’t I?”

Ianto realised that he’d lost Jack’s full attention and that he was looking wistful once more, as if reliving pleasant memories.

“Tosh always was brilliant.”

Jack smiled as fond memories of Tosh surfaced. For him, her crowning achievement had been the brilliant design of a transmitter to relay the killer signal to the creatures that had wanted to steal the Earth’s children. She’d always been so modest about it, saying it had been Ianto’s idea to sample the children’s voices in the first place that had spurred her on to figuring out a way to make it work.

“You worked well together.”

“Yeah – you’re right.” Ianto agreed. “But that’s not going to stop her interrogating me when I get back.”

“Boots and a handbag?” suggested Jack.

“That might give me a fighting chance,” conceded Ianto.

“Let’s leave the sightseeing for tonight.” Jack looked over his shoulder at the dark silhouette of the Castel Sant’ Angelo and then back at Ianto. He was in no doubt which he wanted to spend more of his limited time with. “If it’s OK with you I just want to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.”

“Of course. Tired?” Ianto tilted his head to one side to see if Jack’s colour had returned, but the streetlights had become brighter and it wasn’t really possible to detect if he was any less pale.

“No, not at all.”

Ianto took note of the spark of lust and something else that glinted in Jack’s eyes and held out a hand. Jack smiled broadly as he accepted the invitation and pushed away from the parapet of the bridge and struck out along the cobbled pavement.

If their fates were out of their hands, then there was no point in wasting a single second of the precious time that had been gifted to them.


	26. Chapter 26

A diversion through the Via Dei Condotti allowed Ianto the opportunity to purchase the items specified by Tosh in a text message. It occurred to him that if anyone intercepted messages coming out of Torchwood, they would have interpreted the text as a coded instruction issued by said top secret organisation, whereas it simply stated shoe size, along with a selection of styles, in descending order of desirability.

Just when Ianto thought he’d found the perfect pair, that looked sexy as hell, yet wouldn’t force him to give up his flat and live in his car, Jack threw in a matching handbag, escalating the cost extravagantly. Ianto just knew he’d return to Cardiff to find a letter from the bank benevolently inviting him to extend his credit limit. However, he figured out that with a few austerity measures he could possibly pay off the balance and interest accrued within the year, if he lived off toast when not in the hub and turned the heating down, or maybe off completely. He wondered if perhaps it was finally time to accept Jack’s offer to increase his salary.

“Stop frowning- she’ll love them.” Jack reassured Ianto, mistaking the creases on his forehead for concerns regarding the eventual choice he’d made rather than the cost.

“Oh yes, I’m sure she will.” Ianto sighed heavily. “Now all I need to do is work out how to get around giving her a far more expensive gift than anyone else – including you.”

“You’ll figure out a way – you’re cleverer than you think.”

Jack slapped Ianto on the back, resisting the temptation to tell him what to give the version of himself back in Cardiff. After all, if the past few days had been anything to go by, Ianto knew exactly what he liked best and it wouldn’t cost a single euro.

“No, I’m not – Tosh, on the other hand, is brilliant.” Ianto shook his head and then gave a half smile as he admitted in a self-deprecating manner: “I’ve just learnt to think quickly enough on my feet to survive.”

Jack’s grin slipped as Ianto’s words sunk in and he automatically reached out to grab hold of his hand, squeezing it hard.

“That’s good enough for me – just keep doing that. Please.”

Jack kept hold of Ianto’s hand and clutched it tightly as they wove through the bustling crowds of late-night shoppers. Although he knew exactly how and when Ianto was to meet his end, he couldn’t help hoping that maybe something would change. At this point he didn’t care less about timelines any longer; he just wanted Ianto to have more time. He wanted him to have the chance to live instead of merely survive.

They had moved out of the main concourse and were fast approaching their hotel, the gleaming white walls and smartly attired concierge welcome sights for no other reason than the fact that it would not be long before they were alone once more. The week was going by far too fast for Jack, but at least this time he knew that he had to make the most of every single day and had no intention of squandering a single minute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tosh?”

“Jack?” Tosh looked up from her computer to see Jack leaning against the wall, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hands jammed into his trouser pockets.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” The slight upward tilt of his chin implied that he was onto something and was generously giving her a chance to confess all before he declared his hand.

“What do you mean?” Tosh smiled nervously as she took off her glasses, folded them and placed them neatly next to the keyboard. She wasn’t going to admit anything until she knew exactly how much Jack knew. Until he enlightened her, she was content to counterbluff.

“D’you want a clue?” Jack’s eyebrows twitched as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. “How about this - tall, handsome, looks edible in a suit.”

“Ianto?” Tosh frowned. She was certain that she’d covered up the tracks of the two temporal energy bursts she’d detected and hidden them so that they wouldn’t show up on any of Jack’s regular scans for events that could be attributable to extra-terrestrial intervention. “What about him?”

“Oh, Tosh – I know a lot more than you give me credit for.” Jack then unleashed his shark smile, the one full of teeth and lacking in humour.

“I don’t know what you’re on about – really.” Tosh shrugged as she sat back, letting her head settle on the back of her seat, genuinely confused.

“You want another clue?”

“Go ahead. You may as well, because I’m in the dark here.”

“Salvatore Ferragamo.” Jack enunciated the name of the luxury leather wear company slowly, visibly relishing the way the syllables rolled off his tongue.

“What?” Tosh yelped involuntarily.

“Credit card sale in the name of Ianto Jones. Shoes and a handbag.”

“Perhaps he’s treating himself?” Tosh suggested, not believing for one minute that Jack would buy it. “It’s not as if he doesn’t deserve a bit of luxury-”

“Oh Tosh, honey – trust me, I know all of Ianto’s kinks. And I mean all of them, including the ones he doesn’t realise he has, yet.” Jack raised his eyebrows and leered meaningfully. “And wearing women’s shoes ain’t one of ’em. Pity, but there you go.”

“Oh.” Tosh wasn’t sure whether she felt envious of Ianto or scared for him.

“Although I have to admit the leather lace peep toes with five-inch heels are gorgeous.” Jack pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and produced a printout showing the shoes he’d described. “No, Ianto just hasn’t got the ankles to pull off that look, although I think I could do them justice – but not in that size.”

“How do you know what he bought?”

Tosh narrowed her eyes and glared at Jack, wondering if he was calling her bluff or if he really was as controlling as Ianto had suggested on more than one occasion. The thought that he might have spied on her own text messages wasn’t a welcome one. The mere suspicion was enough for her brain to start working on increased security measures.

“I backtracked the point of sale details and hacked into the store’s database. Child’s play.”

“Ianto will go ballistic when I tell him what -”

Jack didn’t wait to hear the rest of what Tosh was going to say, he just strolled across and spun her chair around until it came to rest with his hands placed on the arm rests, effectively trapping her.

“OK, let’s get down to business. I want to know exactly what he’s done, that you’ve sussed, that is so bad that you can demand that calibre of bribe to keep quiet.” Jack leaned closer. “Come on, Tosh, don’t make me order you to spill the beans.”

“Jack – you’ve just admitted to me that you’ve been checking up on what Ianto has been shopping for on his holiday.” Tosh leaned forward to challenge Jack. “Do you really think you’re in any position to be issuing orders like that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack loosened his grip on Tosh’s chair.

“If, for argument’s sake, I am taking a bribe from Ianto to keep quiet, and I break his confidence, and he, hypothetically, asks why, then I’d have to say you found out by spying on him. How do you think he’ll take that?”

Tosh fluttered her eyelashes coyly as she spun her seat back to face her computer, reached out to pick up her glasses, perched them near the end of her nose and adjusted their position so that the text on her monitor was perfectly focused. She didn’t turn back to look at Jack, but heard him huff angrily.

“There’s something going on, isn’t there?” Jack demanded.

“If there was, I wouldn’t tell you. Sorry, Jack, but there is such a thing as loyalty – trust even. I take it you’ve heard of the concept?”

“Is Ianto being loyal to me, though?” Jack muttered under his breath, suddenly insecure.

“He never stopped and never will!” snapped Tosh. “If you don’t know that, you deserve him less than I thought you did.”


	27. Chapter 27

“Hey there – you awake?”

Jack lay next to Ianto, propped up on one elbow as he’d been for a while, observing him as he dozed. He ran the fingertips of his free hand along the exposed flank of his lover, loving the way the sheets fell away from Ianto’s hips, the crumpled cotton low enough to reveal a glimpse of dark curls. A gentle increase in pressure sent a tremble through the younger man’s body.

“I am now,” grumbled Ianto, knowing that there was no fooling any version of Jack Harkness that he was asleep when he wasn’t, especially when he began tracing a line from nipple to cock with the tip of his tongue and then back again.

“Did I wake you?” Jack leaned back as he made a failed attempt to sound remorseful.

“What time is it?” Ianto chose not to acknowledge the question, assuming Jack actually knew the answer and was just making a pretence of being apologetic.

“Um … four thirty in the morning.” Jack frowned.

“I think we’ve screwed up our sleeping patterns.” Ianto scowled at the glowing display on the TV. “Or I have – you’ve never had any and, from what I’ve seen so far, that doesn’t change in the future.”

“Isn’t that what holidays are for?” Jack nudged Ianto in the ribs gently. “You know, not having to stick to a routine.”

“I guess so.” Ianto rubbed his hand over his face. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better I guess.” Jack shrugged, he wasn’t especially aware of having felt bad about anything, but the tone in Ianto’s voice suggested he’d reacted badly to something. He curled around Ianto’s body, resting his head on the other man’s chest. “It’s like since I decided to just let it go, everything in my head’s just slotting into place – like it’s settling down.”

“That’s good I suppose.” Ianto stroked Jack’s hair as he felt the older man’s fingers tracing routes through the smattering of hair on his chest.

“Yeah – I think so. How do I seem to you?”

Ianto thought for a while before answering and then it occurred to him that there were differences.

“A lot less troubled than when you first arrived. Less broken I guess.”

“Really?” Jack sounded puzzled.

“Yep. You’re a lot less grabby.”

“Grabby?” Jack exclaimed in mock outrage.

“Yep – I thought you were going to leave handprints all over me that first night.” Ianto chuckled at the memory.

“You’re exaggerating! I don’t get grabby!” Jack slipped his hands under Ianto’s backside and rolled him over until he lay pressed on top of Jack’s body.

“Not. And manhandling me like that just makes your protests even less tenable.”

“Sorry?” Jack waggled his eyebrows as his hands roamed Ianto’s naked body.

“No need. I guess I sort of liked it – made me feel wanted.” Ianto really had liked the attention that this older Jack had paid him when he’d first appeared in his hotel room.

“You are wanted.” Jack squeezed Ianto’s buttocks, letting him know precisely how he was wanted.

“That’s my arse you’re wanting! I meant me – not just my body and company. I’m nothing special.”

The words were out before Ianto could rein them back in. He was wistfully recalling the way Jack had wanted him when he’d first turned up rather than the way he wanted him there and then.

“Hey there, don’t say that.” Despite his physical needs and wants, Jack wasn’t totally oblivious to the tinge of sadness that radiated from Ianto. “You’re somebody very important to me – someone I remembered – someone I needed to come back to see.”

“You probably shouldn’t have.” Ianto mumbled, burrowing his face into the gap between the pillow and Jack’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine how complicated it would get for you if you started popping back in time to visit all your old lovers, wives, families … you’d need a PA to keep track of all your retrospective conjugal visits.”

“Or a diary – that’s what River does.”

“Who? Forget it – I know I shouldn’t ask.”

Ianto had seen the look of fondness and warmth linger on Jack’s face as he seemed to go through some sort of internal reminiscence. He felt unaccountably jealous, which was ridiculous – after all, it was quite conceivable that Jack said the same thing about him occasionally, or had he forgotten that Ianto also kept a diary?

“Hey, no need for that – she’s a friend, that’s all.” Jack ruffled Ianto’s hair affectionately as he recalled a woman with red hair and a temper to match it. “A con artist extraordinaire - owes me a vortex manipulator! I really shoulda seen that one coming.” Jack burst out laughing out loud. “Gotta love a woman with balls like that.”

Ianto took the opportunity to push himself away from Jack’s body and slip out of the bed, taking advantage of the moment when Jack’s eyes glazed over as he re-visited his old memories – old for Jack, but made in a time after Ianto had died. Just thinking about it made Ianto’s flesh crawl – however pragmatic he tried to be about his own inevitably early death working for Torchwood, he struggled to cope with the idea that Jack would just carry on, working his way through one lover after another. He could only imagine how long Jack’s back catalogue was by now, he was genuinely surprised that he was still memorable.

“Where are you going?” Jack asked as the cool air alerted him to the fact that Ianto had got out of the bed.

“Bathroom.”

Ianto didn’t look around, but just headed for the en suite, shutting the door behind him and locking it for good measure. He idly wondered if Jack had seen him slide his phone off the nightstand.

Jack heard the bolt click into place and sighed. He knew he was expecting a lot of Ianto and he kept forgetting how hard all of this would be on him. He sensed the younger man moving away from him in more senses than the purely physical. Their lovemaking when they’d got back to their room had been as ardent as ever, but he was under the impression that Ianto had tried to avoid kissing him as much as they had earlier on, as if that was the ultimate betrayal and one he was feeling more and more uncomfortable with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey there, Ianto. You OK? It’s not even five in the morning in Rome, is it? Ianto? You’re not in any trouble are you? You’re not sounding too good – are you ill? What’s that? …. No, I’m not busy right now, I’ve got time to talk…”

Jack frowned as he wondered what was really going on. But the next thing he heard put his mind at rest.

“Yeah, I’m missing you, too.”


	28. Chapter 28

Despite Jack’s temptation to listen at the bathroom door, he wisely decided to respect Ianto’s privacy and stepped out onto the balcony. There was something unbecoming about feeling jealous of oneself. The night air was cool on his bare flesh and he almost regretted his decision not to bother putting anything on, he’d figured that anyone wandering around the streets at such an early hour wasn’t going to be too shocked at the sight of a naked man on a balcony. Looking out over the city, he could make out the majestic domes of churches pushing up into the night sky that was just beginning to lighten as it touched their curves. Like sentries, the elegant cypress trees were silhouetted as they stood silent vigil over the sleeping citizens as they had been doing for centuries. 

The beauty of the night was spoilt as a sharp tremor rippled along Jack’s spine like an electric shock and he clumsily grabbed hold of the railing to keep himself standing upright. He could no longer ignore the spasms of the vortex within him as his past was rewriting itself as a consequence of his actions. Despite his best attempts to avoid dealing with the implications of the changes being wrought to the time continuum he realised that things were coming to a head. But he reasoned with himself that what was done was done – there was no way he could undo the damage now.

When he worked as a Time Agent it wasn’t unheard of to go back in time to prevent isolated events – that’s if they weren’t meant to have happened in the first place. It occurred to him that the Doctor was always doing that. But those were always distinct, one-off occasions, often instigated by outside forces interfering with the natural order. This was totally different, the proverbial butterfly had been carefully removed from danger and a domino effect had cascaded forward, its precise outcomes unknown to him as he was caught up in the eye of the storm. 

Jack then recalled, with awful clarity, the confession made by the Doctor, recorded and left for him to find – a warning of what can happen whenever a time traveller succumbs to the temptation to intercede in order to save a life that fate decreed had to be sacrificed. He had never seen that incarnation of the Doctor look so disgusted with his own actions, as when he admitted that he’d become arrogant enough to put in jeopardy the whole process of human space exploration. Jack could have sworn there were tears in the Time Lord’s eyes as he humbly reported that the situation had been salvaged because the subject of his rescue had taken her own life when she knew what he’d done. ‘A mere human had shown greater nobility than the Lord of Time’, that was how the Doctor had phrased it, his lips curling back with self deprecation. 

Frightening thoughts scurried through his mind: what would Ianto do if he knew the full implications? Would he sacrifice himself for the sake of the greater good? Jack blanched as he considered the possibility and realised with a chilling certainty that his interference with timelines had the potential to drive his lover to an even earlier grave than the one that haunted his muddled memories. 

There was nothing for it, Jack had to leave this time and place sooner rather than later. The longer he stayed the more harm he could cause. It was only the fact that the Doctor had failed to turn up and read him the riot act that reassured him that any changes yet established were not devastating. 

A gust of wind in the street below picked up the late-night litter and tossed empty drink cans into a corner. The sudden sound startled Jack and had him leaning over to stare up and down the street with more than a hint of paranoia. Swallowing hard against the fear that his Gallifreyan conscience was on the verge of materialising ready to chastise him and reset history had him nervous and agitated. Although his memories had become distorted and misshapen, like plastic held too close to the flame, his mind taunted him repeatedly with an image of Ianto dying in his arms. It was a key image, tied to his soul just as he was anchored to time, only the circumstances shifting, one moment Ianto was dressed in a suit, his young eyes brimful with pain, lying on a chequerboard floor and in the next they were curled up in bed, Ianto’s eyes sliding shut peacefully as his frail hand slipped from Jack’s grasp. He yearned for the latter to be the true future for Ianto but dreaded that it was the former and that the Doctor would suddenly appear and demand that it be allowed to transpire that way. 

The creaking of the balcony door and a polite cough announced Ianto’s presence. Unlike Jack, he wasn’t naked, he’d put on a bathrobe before venturing out into the night air. 

“You OK?” Ianto’s voice was huskier than normal.

“You?”

Their eyes met and instantly they both knew the answer was an emphatic ‘no’.

Ianto nodded slightly, acknowledging the unspoken sentiments. 

“What do we do next then?”

“I have to go back.”

“I guessed so.”

“Ianto –”

“Don’t. Don’t say anything.”

“Yeah.” Jack shrugged.

“How about getting dressed and taking one more stroll through the city before it wakes up?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing what everyone else is - sleeping?”

“Told you – my sleeping pattern’s shot to hell.” Ianto looked out over the city but wasn’t focusing on the iconic skyline. He shrugged slightly and realised that he couldn’t really blame his insomnia on Jack. “To be honest it never really got back to normal after what happened in London.”

“I’m sorry. Did I ever tell you that?”

Ianto just shook his head and sighed. It had been something they’d never talked about, never mind ‘elephant in the room’, it was more like a bloody stegosaur in a lift. 

“Damn. I really was a complete shit wasn’t I?”

“No – well maybe, sometimes… it’s not that … Maybe enough time has passed… perhaps it’s time to…” Ianto faltered over the words. That was a conversation he’d have to have with his Jack, not this one. 

“So, you fancy a walk in the city?” asked Jack, returning the subject to safe territory.

“Yep. You know – while it’s quiet.”

From their balcony the only thing they could hear were the distant engine sounds of a motor scooter weaving its way through the empty streets. 

“That sounds like a plan.” Jack tilted his chin up slightly, managing to appear commanding, even though he was naked. 

“Clothes first.” Ianto teased affectionately. “Remember the ‘no getting arrested’ rule?”

Ianto smiled sadly and held out his hand to Jack before leading the way back into the softly lit bedroom. 

It would have been oh so easy to just slip back into the bed and make love once, or maybe twice, more before dawn, but both men silently consented to spending what were to be their last hours together strolling hand in hand through the deserted streets of the Eternal City. Somehow they knew that those memories would belong to them and them alone.


	29. Chapter 29

The orange streetlights cast deep shadows as Trajan’s column towered ominously over the piazza. The intricate carvings that spiralled up the column were barely decipherable in the peculiar lighting, but that didn’t stop both men staring upwards squinting to make out the images. The monument to Trajan’s battle with the Dacians was situated next to yet more ruins of ancient Rome, including a row of broken pillars that reminded Ianto of the light columns in Roald Dahl Plass.

“Do you think there’s a secret alien-fighting base underneath this thing?” Ianto nudged Jack in the ribs as he whispered conspiratorially. “You know, what with the phallic symbolism and all. Maybe they’re down there right now watching us.”

“Nope, no alien hunting base here – that’s under the Vatican.”

“You’re kidding me.” Ianto leaned away from Jack but didn’t let go of his hand.

“Why do you think it’s independent from the rest of Italy? All those aliens gotta be kept apart from the rest of the population,” exclaimed Jack, launching into full bombast mode. “Trust me, those habits hide a multitude of limbs and head shapes.”

“So, what about the Swiss Guard then? Not Swiss I take it?” Ianto raised one eyebrow. They’d discussed the special guard at the Vatican only the other day when Jack had been flicking through his Lonely Planet guide and had laughed out loud at the outlandish garb worn by the special guardians of the Holy See.

“Nope, they’re definitely alien. You’d’ve thought that get up would’ve been a give away, wouldn’t you?” Jack shook his head disbelief as he gestured dramatically. “Primary colours in stripes? In the most sartorially astute city in Europe?”

“That’s a very good point – I had wondered.” Ianto nodded sagely, tucking his hands into the pockets of his casual, yet stylish, linen jacket. “So, it’s a big operation then?”

“Yeah - think men in black, or purple … but vestments instead of Armani.”

“Now you mention it, it does all make sense.”

Ianto followed Jack as he scrambled over the abandoned blocks of marble until he found a suitable fallen pillar on which to sit. Jack patted the worn stone next to him and, after brushing the worst of the city grime away, Ianto sat down next to him.

“Remember - Rome’s been around for such a long time already– and it’s gonna be around for millennia yet.” Jack gazed around in admiration, taking in the layers of history from the ancient ruins to the majestic domed churches already a few hundred years old themselves. “One of the favourite alien tourist destinations.”

“Hence the bigger Tourist Office than mine in Mermaid Quay?”

“No need to feel inadequate, Ianto,” teased Jack. “Think yourself lucky you don’t have regular arrivals of vacationing Judoon to accommodate.”

Ianto had read the files on the Judoon and couldn’t believe for one minute that they’d be the type to enjoy cultural getaways to the planet Earth. Despite giving Jack a sidelong glance that told him that he was pushing the boundaries of believability, he chose to continue to indulge their harmless fantasy.

“Well I see how Saint Peter’s Square would allow for larger craft to land than the Oval Basin – although their perception filter would have to be bloody powerful.”

“They’ve got a much bigger budget than Torchwood.” Jack tapped the side of his nose with his index finger and winked.

“Maybe I’ll see if they’ve got any vacancies.” Ianto pondered out loud. “I’ve got experience dealing with aliens and tourists.”

“Well the good points would be that they serve amazingly good coffee, there’s great ice cream and they take really long lunch breaks-”

“I’m sold – you had me at coffee!”

“Hold up- there’s just one possible drawback. The guys in charge insist on celibacy for all employees.” Jack winced as if the mere mention of the word was distasteful. “They’d never approve of the type of relationship you like to enjoy with your boss …”

“Ah yes … that would explain why they’ve had nothing to do with us then.”

“Yep. So, still interested in working for the Vatican?”

“Sadly, I’ll have to reconsider that option.” Ianto pressed his lips together and shook his head sorrowfully. “I’d really, really miss the sexual harassment.”

“I’m exceedingly grateful on behalf of my past self.” Jack grinned as he slid an arm around Ianto’s waist to draw him closer so he could indulge in some impromptu harassment.

“Hang on a minute – you knew all along that I’ll never leave Torchwood Cardiff!”

Jack’s smile fell as he considered what that the implications of that might still mean for Ianto. However, the overriding memories that lingered at the peripheries of his mind were leaning more towards a successful career for Ianto, one that defied the odds.

Ianto noticed Jack’s mood change, no longer engaged in their lighthearted and flippant conversation. He folded him into a comforting embrace, anchoring him to their small respite from chaos, as they sat amidst the crumbled remnants of a long-gone civilisation.

“It’s nice like this isn’t it?” Ianto mumbled into Jack’s ear. “No one around, no traffic sounds. It feels like we’ve got the whole city to ourselves.”

“I bet there’s a tiny café open in some hidden away alley somewhere.”

“Serving espresso so thick you could stand a spoon up in it?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I always did say you were an addict.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After seeking out an all-night café and indulging in double espressos, the two men ventured on, fortified with caffeine. With barely a soul in sight, they walked hand in hand, with no concerns for the opinions of others. Not that it ever bothered Jack – either this one from the future, or the one in Cardiff, also from the future; however, the hostile jibes they occasionally received did upset Ianto. He’d never been in a relationship with another man before Jack and he’d always thought that the twenty first century was a more tolerant, accepting time for anyone in a same sex relationship – that was until he was the one on the receiving end of the taunts and threats. They made him angry, sometimes he wanted to confront the spineless morons who threw ugly words like missiles and then ran like the cowards they were. But most often it just made him sad. Ianto smiled as he rubbed his thumb across Jack’s knuckles and made the most of holding the hand of his lover in a public place with no qualms whatsoever.

Their aimless wanderings took them through the centre of the city, skirting past the enormous edifice that was the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II, white and glistening in the floodlights. Ianto wasn’t impressed with what was probably the flashiest and most contentious of the architectural extravagances of the city, he preferred the dusty Renaissance piazzas and the decaying ruins of ancient Rome, both imbued with the fading traces of decadence.

They kept going until they reached the dark figures of Egyptian lions carved from black basalt standing guard at the base of the ramp known as the Cordonata. Ianto smiled at Jack as they both looked up and decided as one that they would head for the top of the Capitoline Hill, from which they could view the sun rising over the city. The ramp was originally designed to be a gradual incline to allow men on horseback to climb the hill without dismounting, the occasional low steps along the way providing an easier route than the steeper and heavily worn fourteenth century stairs that climbed up to the left, to the ancient church that sat to one side of the Piazza del Campidoglio.

As they neared the top they found themselves gazing at the striking marble statues of Castor and Pollux that awaited them. The tall figures stood naked, apart from long cloaks pinned at the shoulder, and each stood next to a magnificent stallion. Jack drew in a sharp breath at the sight and squeezed Ianto’s hand tighter.

“What is it, Jack? Slope too steep for you? You must be getting old.” Ianto teased gently.

“No – it’s just...” Jack sighed and pulled Ianto closer to his side. “Do you know the myth of Castor and Pollux?”

“Twin brothers, born of the same mother, but of different fathers?”

“Yeah. Zeus seduced Leda by taking the form of a swan and sired Pollux, who was born immortal-”

“But Castor’s father was the king of Sparta and Helen was his sister, yes?”

“Very good.” Jack smiled proudly and then turned to take Ianto into his arms.

“What?”

“According to the story they were inseparable, never doing anything without the other at his side. Sound familiar?”

“Only if they had an incestuous relationship.” Ianto leant forward and pressed a kiss to Jacks lips. “Which I’m pretty sure they didn’t.”

“Lovers or not, they loved each other dearly and when Castor was fatally wounded, Pollux pleaded with Zeus to let him share his immortality with his brother so they’d never be parted.”

Jack hugged Ianto close to his chest, not wanting him to see the moisture in his eyes. If only he could have asked the same and have someone who understood him and loved him, share his life with him – but his immortality was a curse not a blessing.

“What happened?” Ianto asked quietly, his breath warm against Jack’s ear.

“They ended up amongst the stars together,” Jack’s voice hitched a little, as his mind assaulted him with parallels that would never be. “The Eternal twins – the Gemini constellation.”

Jack decided to keep quiet about the versions that had Castor condemned to Hades while Pollux dwelt amongst the gods on Mount Olympus, never to meet again.

“Hey there – it’s alright.” Ianto cupped Jack’s head in his hands, framing his face with slim fingers as he kissed away the stray tear that had escaped to trickle down Jack’s cheek.

Beneath the statue of Castor, they kissed, standing on the outer edge of the concentric geometric design, the twelve-pointed star evoking astrological significance not lost on the popes of the time, who never completed the designs of Michelangelo. However, the irony wasn’t lost on Jack who wept inside at the realisation that he’d never show Ianto the stars.

“There are probably cameras on us now.” Ianto smiled as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against Jack’s. “The mayor’s office is in that building.”

“Do we look suspicious?”

“Maybe not suspicious as such. However, you do have a talent for looking conspicuous, Jack.”

“You saying I stand out in a crowd?”

”I’m saying that you’re hard not to notice.”

“Let’s take this somewhere less public then.”

“ **This** was meant to be a walk in the early morning light.”

“The sun’s coming up now – there will be flocks of tourists disembarking tour buses within the hour.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to share this time with anyone else – I want you to myself. Just for a little while longer.”


	30. Chapter 30

Sticky with sweat, yet too boneless to move out of the bed to do anything about getting cleaned up, Ianto sighed heavily and then inhaled slowly, taking in the almost overwhelming scent of pheromones and sex. As soon as they’d got back to their room, Jack had taken charge and made their lovemaking stretch on until the need to come had become almost painful; he’d persisted in taking Ianto to the edge and then backing off repeatedly until Ianto had been forced to beg for release. It had been as if Jack knew that as soon as they both reached their respective climaxes it would signal the approaching end of their time together and he wanted to delay that as long as possible. Lying there, limbs entwined, not moving, Ianto could almost imagine that time was standing still for them, giving them one more moment of respite.

As Jack’s hands moved across his bare flanks, he shuddered slightly. It seemed that every square inch of his skin had been left over-sensitised from sensory overload and the slightest touch was enough to have him trembling once more, yet another reason not to move a muscle. Collapsed on his back, with Jack sprawled out across his chest, hips jutting into the cradle of Ianto’s thighs, it occurred to him that being set adrift in a post-orgasmic fug, surrounded by Jack Harkness, wouldn’t be a situation he’d ever be in any hurry to extricate himself from.

“You OK there?” Jack’s hesitant query broke the spell.

“Mmmm…”

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmmm mmmm…”

“Ianto?”

“Just thinking. If time stopped now, that would be OK with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah – working for Torchwood doesn’t leave much time for slow-” Ianto nearly said ‘love-making’ until a gear shift in his brain steered his tongue clear of such evocative phrasing. “- sex.”

Ianto smiled coyly – that was the thing about Jack, he did nothing by halves, especially sex, so that even if it was nothing but a physical release, he knew he’d never experience better in his entire life, however short or long that may be.

However, Jack had heard the hesitation and looked up in time to see the way the Ianto’s eyes flickered away quickly, avoiding looking him in the face. It didn’t take psychic powers to perceive what was going through his mind.

“It’s not just sex, Ianto. Never was.” Jack peeled away from Ianto’s body and then dipped his head down to press a sloppy wet kiss on his damp stomach. “Shower?”

“Together?” Ianto offered, spotting the unspoken request in the twinkle in Jack’s eyes.

“I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Naturally the shower was anything but quick and clean, but it held true that all good things must come to an end and with great reluctance Jack handed a thick, towelling bathrobe to Ianto. He watched longingly as Ianto dried and dressed. A long-sleeved, checked, linen shirt slowly covering up the broad back, whose scars Jack had re-discovered, and the chest with that soft covering of hair that he’d almost forgotten. Lean, muscular legs were slid one at a time into a pair of tight jeans and with a final scraping of zipper teeth against one another, the fly was shut fast and the snug, white briefs concealed for the last time as far as Jack was concerned. He felt as if he was silently bidding farewell to Ianto, one square inch of naked skin at a time as it disappeared from view.

As Ianto pulled on his boots, he caught sight of the wistful look on Jack’s face.

“Is there anyone waiting for you?” Ianto asked awkwardly.

He’d not asked before – it had been bad enough knowing he was technically cheating, without considering whether or not Jack was also two-timing a partner in the future. For all he knew, he could be married with a family. Ianto felt an uncomfortable pang of incipient guilt.

Jack frowned and shut his eyes – he wasn’t sure. As he was dressed in the clothing he’d been wearing when he’d originally arrived in Ianto’s time, he searched the pockets for any clue that might help – but they were all empty. A quick check on the vortex manipulator also failed to provide any hints as to his status whenever he’d come from. Then it hit him that he couldn’t remember precisely where that was, or when.

“Sorry – didn’t mean to make you feel bad about anything. Forget I asked.” Ianto looked embarrassed.

“No, it’s not that – it’s just that I don’t know. I really haven’t got a clue what I was doing before I came here – or where I was.”

It hadn’t been something they’d discussed, apart from the evening when Ianto had retconned himself and, even then, the subject of Jack’s current existence had not been explored in any detail.

“Shit! How will you know where to return to?” Ianto was horrified – he had a plane ticket and a flight schedule, so he knew exactly what his travel plans were. It had never occurred to him that Jack wouldn’t.

Jack anxiously fumbled at the controls on the wrist strap and then huffed in frustration.

“Looks like I programmed it to take me back to what I assume must be home – but that doesn’t ring any bells.”

“Where is it then?” Ianto asked quietly. “Where is home for you?”

“New Earth apparently.” Jack raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

He didn’t want to tell Ianto that the concept of ‘home’ had been one that eluded him for a very long time. Glancing around the confines of the hotel room it occurred to him that he’d almost come to think of it as home for the past few days, because he felt as if he belonged there.

“ _ **New** _Earth?”

Ianto’s sceptical intonation reminded Jack that naturally the younger man had no knowledge of the Earth-like planet, after all it wasn’t due to be settled until long after he’d passed away.

“Yeah – it’s a colony world, inhabited by humans and a few other friendly species, including cat people.”

Jack was relieved that both the location and time were politically stable and environmentally safe. The fact that he had no recollection of setting those co-ordinates was another issue entirely and one he didn’t want to trouble Ianto with.

“Oh – that’s good then? Yes?” Ianto desperately needed to know that wherever this Jack ended up he’d be safe, regardless of his resistance to death.

“Yeah. It’s good.” Jack smiled reassuringly, picking up on the concern rolling off Ianto in waves. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. I bet that as soon as I get there it’ll all come rushing back to me.”

Ianto wasn’t convinced. He couldn’t help but worry that the changes they’d brought about to the timelines had altered Jack’s past so much that he wasn’t returning to the same place he’d left when he’d travelled back to the twenty-first century. Rather than voice his concerns he just wrapped his arms around Jack and hugged him tight, figuring that he’d understand what he was trying to communicate.

“Hey there, it’s alright – I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

Jack let Ianto hold him close, sliding his arms around the younger man’s waist, pulling him in even closer. He was mildly surprised to realise that he meant what he was saying, despite the fact that his principle intention had been to put Ianto’s mind at rest. The uneasiness that had been bothering him on and off for days had gone, replaced by a calmness he’d not experienced for as long as he could remember. Something deep inside him felt at peace, as if he’d successfully negotiated a particularly nasty patch of temporal turbulence and had come out the other side intact.

“I see you’re wearing that outfit you turned up in.”

Ianto ran his hands along the strange fabric on Jack’s arms. He always knew when Jack was telling him what he thought he wanted to hear and as there was nothing he could do to affect what happened next, he resorted to tackling what he could handle. Taking a step back he gestured at the heap of clothes piled in one corner of the room.

“What shall we do with that stuff we bought so you blended in?”

“I strongly suggest you don’t take it back with you, for a start it’s not your size-”

“Or style to be honest.” Ianto shook his head. A case full of another man’s clothes wasn’t going to be easy to explain to Jack back in Cardiff. “I’ll bag it up in the hotel laundry sack and leave a note asking the concierge to give it away to charity.”

“Good plan – what about this?” Jack held out the cheap compact camera they’d picked up so that he could capture images without looking conspicuous with his wrist strap. “It’s no good to me out of this time.”

“What about- ?” Ianto frowned, wondering if perhaps Jack didn’t want the photos he’d taken of him after all.

“Uploaded them all onto the wrist strap.” Jack smiled as he observed the insecurity in Ianto’s stance, hands on hips, forehead creased. “I’ll put the camera in with the clothes.”

“Better wipe the memory on it first then – don’t want any of those pictures ending up on the internet.”

“Done it already – those images are strictly for my eyes only.” Jack winked and then grinned as Ianto began to blush, realising exactly what images Jack was referring to.

“Right then – well why don’t you take care of the stuff we bought for you and I’ll finish packing. OK?”

It didn’t take long for Jack to cram the clothes and camera into the large plastic sack. Once finished, he sat down in the armchair and watched on as Ianto continued packing, meticulously rolling and folding items of clothing so that they could be tightly jammed into the suitcase, along with the two gladiator outfits, one for his nephew and one for Jack’s grandson and the cardboard tubes containing the prints of erotic Ancient Roman art for Jack. Rolled up in bubble wrap was a small replica statue of Diana, goddess of hunting, that Ianto had bought for Gwen.

“Do you think she’ll get the message?” asked Ianto, holding it up for Jack to see.

“If it’s subtle – no, not from what I recall. I’d suggest marking your territory more aggressively.”

“What – like piss up your leg and growl whenever she sits on your desk?”

“Trust me – that’s something I’d love to see.”

Ianto chuckled as he shoved the statue into his case and returned his attentions to the Salvatore Ferragamo bag in which Tosh’s bribes were carefully wrapped in tissue paper. It wouldn’t fit in the case, not without crushing the shoes, and neither would the garment bag containing the designer suit that had cost a small fortune. There was also a carrier bag from the local grocery contained a bottle of Strega liqueur for Owen, something he didn’t think the medic had got intoxicated on as yet, and some hand made pasta and a bottle of vintage balsamic vinegar for Rhys. Ianto set them all aside on the bed and hoped he could carry them all on as hand luggage.

“All done?” Jack smirked as Ianto forced the lid of the suitcase down and wrestled with the zip. “Not taking the bathrobes?”

“No – that’s stealing.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “And besides there’s no room in the case – it barely shuts as it is.”

“Good point.”

“So – I guess this is it then, time to say goodbye.”

Ianto stood on the opposite side of the bed from Jack and without waiting for an answer, took a deep breath, turned away and walked out onto the balcony, ostensibly checking to make sure he’d left nothing behind, but really to give him time to pull himself together. He did not want Jack to see how upset he was.

In truth, Ianto was feeling thoroughly miserable, he was about to say goodbye to the man who’d been his lover and friend for the past few days. They’d shared everything from candlelit dinners to ice cream, relaxed in the sun having picnics under cypress trees and leisurely explored multiple layers of history, with the added bonus of actually skipping back in time to see the city as it once had been. They’d indulged in hours of love-making in their luxuriously appointed hotel room, had thrown coins in fountains and wandered hand-in-hand through the city’s streets in the quiet hours before dawn. Ianto had made memories with this man that he’d never be able to share with anyone. But he knew that he’d cherish those memories for the rest of his life and was already missing the Jack he’d discovered amongst the piazzas and ruins of Rome.

He smiled as he reflected on having spent quality time in the Eternal City with an Immortal Man. There was something bordering on poetic about that if he allowed himself the luxury of sentimentality, something he generally guarded himself from.

A hand on his arm startled him from his thoughts and he looked around to find that Jack’s eyes were as full to the brim with tears as his were. Clearing his throat he ventured to stay pragmatic:

“I need to be at Fiumicino Airport in about an hour and a half to give me time to check in …” Ianto pressed his lips close together unable to say another word without his voice betraying his inner anguish.

Jack moved closer and cupped Ianto’s head in his hands and kissed him gently on the mouth. Treacherous tears leaked from beneath eyelids and slid down cheeks, imbuing their kiss with the bitter taste of salt. Clenching his jaw, Jack knew that prolonging this farewell was inflicting too much pain on both of them.

“I’m just going to use the bathroom, OK?” Jack pressed a kiss to the top of Ianto’s head and hugged him one more time before slipping away from the balcony.

Ianto nodded and returned to their room, checking the chest of drawers and wardrobe one last time. It was as he was carefully pushing shut the drawer of the antique bureau that a flash of light from under the bathroom door caught his attention. By the time he’d dashed across the room and flung open the door it was too late. Jack had gone.


	31. Chapter 31

It was pouring with rain when Ianto eventually pushed his trolley, loaded up with suitcase, garment bag and several large carrier bags, out of the arrivals hall and onto the pavement outside. The weather perfectly reflected his melancholy mood.

The return flight had seemed to take a lot longer than the journey out. Of course, then he’d been excited, looking forward to his first ever real holiday with Jack, instead of returning alone, with a hollow feeling in his chest.

Each stage of the trip home was too short to allow for any proper sleep, for a start the taxi ride from the hotel to the airport had been as terrifying as most car journeys in and around Rome, so he hadn’t dared blink never mind shut his eyes. Then on the flight from Rome to Schiphol airport in Amsterdam he’d merely catnapped, feigning sleep to avoid conversation with the well-meaning, but overly inquisitive elderly lady sitting next to him. She’d seen the store names on the bags he’d stored away in the overhead storage bins and enquired – ever so politely – if he was returning from a business trip with gifts for his wife and children. He’d hoped to stem her questions by stating that he was not married and that the gifts were for his sister and her kids. That had just had the effect of triggering her to tell him all about her vast family, including grandchildren and great grandchildren. He’d snorted to himself at the thought of Jack as a grandad, then turned to face the window and pretend to fall asleep. He’d missed out on the light meal served not long after take-off, but he’d been spared any further interrogations about his private life.

On arrival at Schiphol, he had trekked from one gate to another to get the short flight back to Wales, which had entailed hauling his hand luggage through endless corridors, past glittering displays of duty-free goods before he could finally check in for the last leg of what should have been a short trip home. Despite it being a nuisance there not being a direct flight to Cardiff, at least it meant that he avoided going via Gatwick or Heathrow, Ianto was certain that he could not have coped with either of those considering the way he was feeling.

Standing outside Cardiff Airport, the cold rain trickling down inside his collar, Ianto couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten to book ahead with Checker Cars to make sure there would be a taxi to take him the twelve miles back to Cardiff city centre. He contemplated a bus briefly, then after on glance at his luggage, he joined the long queue for cabs back into town. The skies were a dark slate grey, full to overflowing with rain. He’d almost grown used to hazy sunshine and clear skies. Even the rain in Rome had seemed lighter and definitely warmer.

He was totally lost in his thoughts as the large black vehicle bounced up onto the kerb, although it did not escape the attentions of the policemen on duty who were making a beeline towards it. Turning to see what the commotion was all about, Ianto rolled his eyes as he recognised a distinct silhouette striding across towards him, the familiar coat tails flapping about the man’s legs. He’d missed that coat.

“Hey there handsome, can I give you a ride?”

Jack was grinning, playing up to the audience he knew was glued to the spectacle.

“Only if you can promise not to get us arrested before I get home.” Ianto smiled back.

Jack grabbed hold of Ianto in a massive bear hug and would have lifted him off his feet if Ianto had not anticipated that possibility and firmly planted his feet on the ground, desperately hoping that gravity would be on the side of his dignity for once.

“Why didn’t you call and let me know that you were coming back a day early?” Jack asked, sounding slightly less confident than his boisterous behaviour would have suggested.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

In truth, Ianto had rearranged his flight once Jack had made the decision to leave the twenty-first century sooner rather than later. He didn’t think he could bear the thought of staying on in Rome alone, it wouldn’t have felt right. And he had genuinely missed this Jack, rough around the edges and with more faults than the San Andreas Valley.

“How did you find out?”

“Tosh.”

That was all that Jack needed to say. Both men nodded, acknowledging their colleague’s indisputable capabilities when it came to finding out exactly what was going on. Ianto glanced down at the Salvatore Ferragamo bag in recognition of just the power she wielded. Jack followed Ianto’s gaze and his eyes widened as he took in the pile of bags heaped up on the luggage trolley.

“Are all these yours?”

Not waiting for an answer, Jack picked up the suitcase and one of the carrier bags leaving the rest for Ianto.

“Let’s get you home then.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 It was inevitable really. The call came in ten minutes from Ianto’s street - reports of strange glowing objects in Roath Park. Jack was singularly unimpressed and made that clear as he shouted at Owen. Although Ianto offered to come along to help, Jack insisted on dropping him off at his house first before going on to the Hub to pick up the team.

“I’ll see you back at the Hub then?” Ianto suggested hopefully as Jack screeched to a halt at a traffic light that had turned red. Despite being tired and hungry, he wasn’t in any hurry to be separated from Jack again, not so soon.

“No need for that - we’ll manage just fine without you. Gwen’s back at work, even though Owen’s got her on light duties – so she’s basically been covering for you, paperwork, coffee and food runs, you know.”

“Oh, I see.”

Ianto looked out of the side window, his ego screaming ‘ouch’. He’d been gone only a few days, so he was hardly expecting the place to fall apart without him, but it appeared that he was more easily replaced than he’d thought. By Gwen, ironically.

“Hey – don’t sulk. Her coffee’s drinkable, but not as good as yours and she keeps choosing healthy food choices.”

Jack smiled, oblivious to the effect of his words on Ianto. He genuinely thought he was doing the right thing, letting Ianto know that it was fine that he’d taken off a few days, having realised that he really did need the break. A quick glance at Ianto caught sight of the younger man frowning and biting his lip – he wondered if maybe he needed a few more days off. Pulling up on the pavement outside Ianto’s house, Jack turned to grasp his shoulder.

“Why don’t you just take time to unpack and catch up with some sleep – you look shattered. Come back into work late tomorrow morning, lunchtime if you like – just let Gwen know what you want for lunch.”

“But-” Ianto didn’t have time to protest as Jack was already out of the SUV and unloading his luggage from the back seat.

Ianto went to help, not wanting anything spoilt by the heavy rain that was now falling with a vengeance. He was busy fumbling with his keys when Jack dumped the suitcase onto the doorstep, gave Ianto a quick kiss on the mouth and then turned to dash back to the SUV.

“If we get the alert sorted out this side of midnight, I’ll try to drop by after, OK?” Jack yelled out just before slamming shut the car door.

“That’s fine – no problem. Maybe I’ll see you then- ” Ianto called after Jack, not sure if he even heard him. “Thanks for the lift.”

Walking out of the rain and into the cold, unwelcoming hall of his house, standing on a pile of mail that had been collecting in his absence, Ianto found it hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago that he’d been curled up in a warm bed, in Jack’s arms, feeling wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The sound of the rain hammering against the bay window and the television channel cycling through its news stories masked the muffled rattle of the key in the front door. Jack was doing his best not to wake up Ianto if he was already asleep, but he’d been unable to resist the opportunity to drop by to check up on him. He’d been furious with Owen for calling him to help deal with a few non-hazardous items dislodged from a herbaceous border in the park. He had wanted to talk to Ianto, ask why he’d returned early – check that he was alright. It had been Gwen in the end who’d told Owen that he could take the night shift so that Jack could go visit Ianto. Jack was grateful for her intervention for a change as it stopped him from prevaricating about whether he should let Ianto have some time to himself or go around to see him that very evening.

Sounds from the living room and the subdued light from the standard lamp indicated that at least Ianto hadn’t gone to bed. Jack smiled as peered through the open doorway and spotted Ianto curled up on the sofa, wearing a faded pair of jeans and scruffy t-shirt; a woollen blanket lay half on the floor where it had slipped from his body. An empty mug on the coffee table indicated that he’d been there for a while.

“Jack?” Ianto mumbled drowsily looking towards the open door. His eyes were barely open and he looked closer to sleep than to consciousness.

“I’d like to think I’m the only person with a key to your house.”

“What are you doing here?” Ianto squinted at his watch, trying to figure out just how late it was.

“I’ve got takeaway – figured you wouldn’t have much in to eat.” Jack held out the bag of food like a peace offering. “ If you’re not hungry I can stick it in the fridge.”

“Thanks – actually now you mention it, I’m starving.” Ianto sat up, yawning widely.

“Tired too by the looks of it – I wouldn’t have thought jet lag would be an issue flying up from Italy.” Jack frowned, wondering how on earth Ianto had managed to return from a holiday looking more shattered than he had when he’d left.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night,” Ianto replied ingenuously, unaware of what he was admitting. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he failed to see the conflict in Jack’s face as he took a good look at Ianto.

“I’ll go sort out the food – you stay where you are.”

Jack slipped out of the living room and headed for the kitchen before Ianto could pick up on his change in mood.

He set down the paper bag of takeaway containers on the table and then set about finding plates and cutlery. As he moved around the kitchen Jack could see that Ianto had already sorted out his dirty washing – a full laundry basket next to the washing machine ready for washing and another folded pile on a chair, probably for dry cleaning. As always Ianto had emptied the contents of his pockets into a small wooden bowl on the kitchen table. There was something endearing about seeing evidence of the younger man’s obsessively tidy habits.

Jack glanced at the carved wooden dish and amongst an airline boarding pass, discarded euro’s and scrunched up receipts, he caught sight of a crumpled paper napkin, which he’d have ignored were it not for the fact that there was something written on it in smudged blue pen – he frowned, the handwriting was not Ianto’s. Jack took the napkin from under the loose coins and unfolded it carefully, revealing what could only have been a phone number and a name – Giovanni. He rubbed his face wearily, wishing he’d not been so curious. He’d been both the instigator and recipient of enough hastily scrawled invitations to know full well what the implications were. Did he have the right to ask Ianto if he’d followed up on Giovanni’s interest? Was he the reason that Ianto looked totally knackered and had, by his own admission, had very little sleep? Jack needed to know.

Despite Owen’s snort of disgust when he’d previously suggested that maybe Ianto might find someone nearer his own age in Rome and Tosh’s glare that threw daggers at his genitals when he’d questioned the younger man’s loyalty to him, he still harboured doubts. Those doubts provided him with an excuse to keep his distance, to put up defences to keep him from fully committing to a relationship that could only end in heartbreak. He was still wary of getting too close to flames that burnt out so quickly – despite the warmth they promised, he could never get used to the bitter cold left behind after they were extinguished.

Leaving the Chinese food untouched in its containers, Jack walked slowly back into the living room, clutching the napkin in one hand. Ianto had picked up the blanket and folded it before placing it on the armchair, and had cleared a space on the coffee table for the food.

“Do you want to put the main light on?” Ianto suggested as he turned around to look at Jack. He was surprised that he wasn’t carrying in the food.

“No – I can see well enough.”

Ianto frowned as a sensation of déjà vu came crashing into his consciousness. He’d heard Jack say almost those exact words only days ago, in almost the same tone of voice - desolate. That time Jack had sat down on the edge of the bed, this time he joined him on the sofa. He was still wearing his coat; Ianto instinctively reached out to touch the fabric, reassured by the presence of what he knew was _**his** _Jack.

“Problem at Roath Park dealt with then?” Ianto asked, shuffling up closer to Jack, who’d left a gap between them when he’d sat down. The tension in Jack’s body sent a shock of panic through his body. Something was wrong. Perhaps it was to do with the call-out that evening – maybe something had gone wrong?

“Hey – what’s up?” Ianto immediately worried by Jack’s demeanour.

“I need to know the truth.” Jack spoke quietly and slowly, reining in his turbulent feelings. “Just answer me honestly, Ianto. I won’t be mad – I just want to know what’s been going on.”

Ianto felt a cold lump forming in his stomach. Had Jack found out what had happened in Rome? He’d thought Tosh had agreed to hide any evidence of energy spikes that would give away the use of a vortex manipulator. He wasn’t sure if he could tell Jack everything – what about timelines?

“What do you need to know, Jack?” Ianto bit his lip, hoping he’d be able to say something without lying.

“Giovanni.” Jack spat out the name as if it was distasteful.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited since it was originally posted - with more 'discussion'.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who?” Ianto was genuinely thrown and confused. The last thing that he’d been expecting was to have a random name thrown at him. “What the hell are you going on about?”

“The guy who gave you his number – on this.” Jack held out the traitorous paper serviette and waved it in Ianto’s face. “I found it on the kitchen table. Did you call him? Did you get together with him? Is he why you’re looking more knackered now than you did before you went on holiday?”

Ianto burst out laughing at the utter absurdity of the situation. It was farcical, only Jack could possibly end up getting Ianto in trouble with himself because he had to flirt with a bloody waiter. There was no way he could explain to Jack that it had been him the waiter was trying to pick up and not the Welshman. He got to his feet, reached out and snatched the scrap of paper from Jack’s hand.

“To be honest, I forgot it was still in my pocket – I meant to throw it away.”

Which was the truth, emptying his pockets of litter hadn’t been a priority when Ianto had returned to his hotel room that evening, or any other evening while he’d been in Rome.

“It’s from a gelaterie!” snapped Jack. “You told me that ice cream gives you headaches.”

“Not Italian ice cream it seems,” replied Ianto, doing his best not to rise to the bait. “It was lovely.”

“I bet it was. Did Giovanni help it go down?”

Jack’s sarcastic comment with raised eyebrows and lewd gestures proved too much for Ianto who shoved Jack in the chest to make some distance between them.

“For fuck’s sake, will you stop being such an idiot!” yelled Ianto. “I’m not you – I don’t speak fluent innuendo. And it’s not me who flirts first and asks questions later!”

“What are you trying to say?” demanded Jack, taking a step forward to close the gap.

“I’m saying that if anyone was going to pick up Giovanni it would’ve been you and not me!” retorted Ianto, angry at being held responsible for Jack’s future behaviour by the man himself.

“If that’s the case, why did you put it in your pocket at all?” Jack pointed accusingly at the napkin that Ianto was waving in his face.

“Didn’t want to hurt his feelings, I guess.” That was what Jack had said at the time and Ianto had believed him. “I’d forgotten it was still there until I got home.”

“So you didn’t call him?”

If it wasn’t for the fact that Ianto was feeling guilty about whether or not he’d actually been cheating, he would have been even more furious with Jack’s questioning of his conduct. It didn’t help that Jack had never seemed to be the epitome of fidelity.

“ **No** – and I didn’t pick up any other waiters or waitresses!” shouted Ianto, screwing up the napkin and throwing it angrily into the waste bin. “Believe it or not, you are more than enough for me.”

“Really? So, you’ve not been with anyone else while you were away?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jack winced as he caught sight of Ianto’s eyes glinting dangerously in the flickering light coming off the TV screen.

“Jack, I swear, on all that is precious to me, that the last person I kissed, had sex with or slept with, was you.”

Ianto was glad of the dimmed lighting, because he could feel his face becoming warmer as he confessed his sins, even though Jack wouldn’t be any the wiser for the admission.

“Promise?” Jack knew he was pushing his luck at this point, but he needed to know where he stood before lowering his own defences.

“Yes – but don’t feel like you have to lie and say the same. I understand.”

Ianto’s voice was tinged with the slightest hint of sarcasm. He knew in his heart that the only reason he’d behaved as he had was because it had been Jack and that Jack had needed him.

“It wouldn’t be a lie,” responded Jack quietly, understanding exactly why Ianto would have cause to doubt him. “Since we’ve been together, there’s been no one else.”

Ianto stared at Jack, confused for a moment, wondering if he had misread all the signs.

“But, I thought…”

“I flirt – that’s all. I’ve been doing that since I learnt how to say ‘hello’.”

Jack reflected back on all those times the Doctor had berated him for coming onto anyone they met, when all he thought he was doing was cheerfully greeting strangers.

“Figures. But what about all those nights and weekends when you said you had ‘other engagements’?”

Jack sighed and collapsed onto the sofa, looking as if the wind had been ripped from his sails. Ianto wondered what sort of confession was coming, worried that perhaps his suspicions had been right after all.

“Ah yes – that would be family time. Now you know about Alice and Steven, I can be open about that. When the rift’s quiet and I know I can safely leave the city, I go visit my daughter and grandson. He thinks I’m his uncle, but that’s OK – at least I get to see him.”

“Oh, of course,” muttered Ianto. He sat down next to Jack. “That makes sense now… it just seemed as if-”

“As if I was seeing other people? I guess I was, just not in the way you probably imagined,”

“Definitely not,” responded Ianto. “However, now you’ve mentioned them – that bag over there by the door contains the extra gladiator outfit you asked me to buy.”

“Maybe you’d like to deliver it in person?” asked Jack, with that same hesitation in his voice that there had been when he’d first asked Ianto out on a date. “I’d been thinking that perhaps next time I go visit, you’d like to come with me?”

“Do you mean that? What about - ?”

“Yes, I do. As for Alice, I’ll speak to her first. She’ll be pissed off that you’re younger and prettier than she is, but she’ll get over it.”

“I’m not surprised you have a difficult relationship with your daughter if that’s your attitude. I can see I’ll have to work on that-”

“Says the man who’s scared of his sister!”

“I am not!”

“When am I going to get to meet her then?”

“What- ? You want to meet my family?”

“Seems reasonable. Isn’t that what people do when they’re in relationships – like a rite of passage? You know, survive family encounters and come away having made a good impression.”

“Relationship?” repeated Ianto, double checking that he’d heard right. “You mean like a ‘couple’?”

“I hate that word – ‘couple’ – sounds like a single entity.” Jack shuddered. “As if each person loses their identity and becomes part of some kind of compromise.”

“Whoa – tell me what you really think, why don’t you?” Ianto was taken aback by how vehemently Jack had reacted to the term.

“It’s nothing personal. Trust me, I prefer the idea of partners – sharing a life, or at least part of one.” Jack added ruefully, knowing he’d never get the opportunity to share his whole life with anyone.

“Always sounds a bit like a business arrangement to me –”

“Not necessarily. What about ‘partners in crime’? Or crime-fighting partners?”

“I am not playing Robin to your Batman!” exclaimed Ianto.

“That’s a shame – I can see you in yellow tights,” muttered Jack.

“Only in the worst ever Pantomime can I possibly imagine that. Anyway, Robin wore green tights.”

“I reckon you’d like me dressed as Batman. The cape, the tight pants - ”

“The head gear would mess with your hair – have you thought about that?”

“Damn – you’re right as always. So, can we agree? We’re partners?” Jack asked tentatively as he turned to face Ianto on the sofa. “The sort that go out on dates, meet each other’s family, and have amazing sex?”

“Sounds good to me. Better than ‘boyfriends’, which is so not me, or you for that matter.”

Jack took a deep breath before wrapping his arms around Ianto and hugging him for all he was worth.

“I’m sorry I acted like an idiot.” Jack admitted. “I missed you.”

“Not just the sex and the superior coffee?”

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I missed those too, but it wasn’t the same without you around. I wish I could have been with you. Give me another chance? Let me make it up to you? Maybe a long weekend away?”

“There’s nothing to make up for Jack – I know that Torchwood always has to come first.”

“Trust me, there’s a hell of a lot I have to make up for. I nearly ended up taking you for granted – not appreciating what we could have. That’s not going to happen, not now.”

“It’s alright …” Ianto soothed, wondering what on earth had been going through Jack’s mind whilst he’d been away.

“No – it’s not.” Jack leaned forward, his head in his hands. “I’ve been acting like a complete ass, not just with you, but the others too. In future I’m gonna be taking a lot better care of all of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost any of you because I was too scared to admit what you all mean to me.”

“Hang on – who the hell are you and what have you done with the real Jack Harkness?” Ianto prodded Jack in the arm with his finger.

“What? I’ve not been that bad have I?”

“To be totally honest with you – yep. I don’t doubt for one minute that you mean all that – but it’s not like you to actually admit it.” Ianto put an arm around Jack’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“Well that’s something else that’s going to have to change then isn’t it?”

“If you say so.” Ianto smiled, thinking that maybe this Jack wasn’t so different after all from the one he’d met in Rome.

“You do know that I love you, don’t you?”

Ianto’s face froze and his heart hammered in his chest. He’d never expected in a thousand years to hear this Jack confess that, even if his future self had seemed more open with his feelings.

“Ianto? Speak to me?” Jack was getting nervous. Had he misread the situation that badly? Was that something Ianto didn’t want to hear? Perhaps he didn’t feel the same after all?

“I’m just a bit … did I imagine that? Did you say what I thought you said?”

“No – you didn’t imagine it. I did say that – and I meant it. I do love you. Is that a problem?”

“No …no … not a problem…” Ianto ducked his head down so that Jack couldn’t see the broad grin that was spreading across his face.

“Good.” Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto and held him as close as he could.

There was no way Jack was wasting this opportunity. He didn’t want to consider what the future may have held if he’d not had this revelation – if he’d continued as he had been, not caring enough for fear of losing anyone that got too close. An image of Ianto lying in his arms, his eyes closing never to open again, flashed through his mind, bringing with it a chill that crept up his spine making him shudder involuntarily. He’d be damned if he was going to lose anyone without a fight, let alone Ianto.

“Love you, too.” Ianto murmured into Jack’s chest, bringing a smile to his face. Jack allowed himself to indulge in the fanciful belief that Ianto’s warm breath was melting away the remaining crystals of ice that fear had deposited within his heart.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later than night, as Jack lay on his side, curled up under the thick, down-filled duvet and wrapped around Ianto’s comforting body, that fitted his as if they were cast together, he felt as if he’d passed a turning point and the direction he’d chosen would be one that would allow him to embrace the future with open arms rather than with his arms folded defensively across his chest, fending off lovers and loved alike.

Just because he couldn’t die, didn’t mean he had to be afraid to live, however hard that might be at times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue to follow.


	33. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a new version of the original epilogue... with a slightly different twist.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

** Epilogue **

 

"Did it work then?" asked the woman impatiently, although the grin on the man’s face suggested it had, she wanted confirmation.

"What? What? Yes – yes of course it worked."

"But it didn't last time, or the time before that."

"As soon as you returned his vortex manipulator to him I knew it would work… eventually. I told you I'm brilliant."

"How can we be sure he won't undo it?"

"I programmed in a fail safe – as soon as equilibrium in the vortex was restored the manipulator short circuits."

"So he's stuck there?"

"No – it was set to return to one final destination once he succeeded."

"Where?" The woman looked around expecting to see the object of their discussion materialise next to her any moment.

"New Earth."

"How original. But that sounds awfully like you've stranded him – again."

"You know what he’s like, he makes friends fast – he'll be fine."

"Remind me why you had to do this again? After all this time refusing to help him go back and change his own timeline."

“Because his plans weren’t thought through properly-”

“All he wanted to do was drop off a bloody gas mask!"

“Exactly! And look what happened when he tried – his noble soulmate gave it away first chance he got to save someone else.”

“Fair enough – can’t always be ready for selflessness. But you’ve still not told me why you suddenly changed your mind.”

"Have you any idea of the damage that one homicidal, guilt-ridden, death-proof man running rampage across the galaxy, joining one mercenary army after another, can accomplish? I could hardly stand by and let that happen, could I?"

"But you did." 

"And then I undid."

"Semantics. People got killed – what happened to them?"

"Never happened."

"But-"

"Didn't happen. You see time isn't linear-"

"Oh please spare me the whole wibbly-wobbly analogy – I am more aware of the tangled nature of time than anyone else you’ve ever met.”

"Of course." The man fiddled with his bow tie, looking suitably chastised by the redhead.

"But if he's changed what happened in his past, there’s a strong probability that he won't be in the right place to go back and change it – so it won't happen. Isn’t that going to be a problem?"

"No. I thought of that. He's created a loop in time for himself – no matter what path he takes he'll always return to Rome for those few days."

"Why?"

"Because he can. He will always go back to Rome – people do - it’s something in the water I believe."

"You are so bloody smug sometimes – make that most of the time."

"I can't help it if I'm brilliant."

"OK, so the time-streams are all flowing smoothly again. But what about **him**? What happens to him now?"

"If time was like a stick of seaside rock, he's like the lettering running through it – however much it gets stretched and distorted, he's still there, running all the way through. Might get a bit knocked about, but he's tough, he'll survive anything."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this! Isn't it bad enough that because of something she did to him – yes I am talking about you, dear,” the woman paused to stroke a nearby coral column. “It might not have been deliberate, but the fact remains that he never dies and keeps losing everyone he ever cares for or loves. I thought you got attached to all your companions, don't you care about him at all?"

There was a pause – an awkward silence that heralded a sigh and a softly spoken confession.

"More than he'll ever know, River. But not a word about that when we pick him up – got it?"

"Spoilers?" the woman smiled ironically as she raised her eyebrows. 

"Indeed." The Doctor coughed awkwardly. "New Earth it is then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timelines are changed... Jack looks after his team, Owen and Tosh survive Gray’s onslaught. Tosh helps him defeat the 456 without loss of either Ianto, Steven or the occupants of Thames House.
> 
> No rampaging Jack. The Doctor and River find him on New Earth... all is well


End file.
